


Liability

by PoemsandRoses



Category: Tegan and Sara (Band)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-15 16:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13035099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemsandRoses/pseuds/PoemsandRoses
Summary: The past has devoured her mind, Sara decides to free her emotions on a piece of paper. She will address not only herself, but the person who made her shrivel into nothingness.Warning: heartbreak/ mean words and language/ deception/ depression/ emotional and physical abuse.





	1. Chapter I - The Day We Met

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers. This is a new story that I have worked on since last summer. This story means so much to me due to its subject matter. Believe it or not, this is the only story I've written that made me cry (not even Halo did that to me). The first chapters are a bit slow, but I hope you like where I'm going with this and give it a chance.

I always wondered about the proper start of one’s own story. I wrote many pieces of fiction, I wrote journals, I wrote letters, diary entries, articles, papers, essays, even poems. I never thought I’d sit down to write this long piece of confrontation to you. I wanted to leave you the way you are. I wanted to leave it the way it is. I wanted nothing but to erase every thought of you, every sweet moment we shared, every utterance of love you spew out of your lips but didn’t mean. I did so, in fact. I ignored your messages, I stopped calling, I stopped smiling when your name came up, I stopped thinking about you each night, I stopped imagining your body on top of mine, I forgot what it felt like to kiss you and hear those captivating words you filled my foolish head with. I stopped everything, my dear. And you know what’s your name on my phone right now? It’s Trash. Your name is Trash.

You will probably wonder why. After all, your name was Teetee. You loved the sound of my voice whispering Teetee in your ears before you fucked me so hard I could barely walk the next day. But remember when you said that feelings change? Remember when you said that you don’t believe in love anymore cause a feeling can alter with time and it can change into dislike or even hate? You were so right, Tegan. I have never hated anyone more than I hate you right now. I can never hate anyone more than I hate you. Why? I think you know too well.

But just in case you want me to narrate every little detail of what you have done to me, this is to tell you why. So please, stop sending me empty text messages that you know too well I am incapable of responding to due to the fact you are my boss at the moment and I cannot disrespect you in fear that you might hurt me and cause me to lose my job. Yes, I do believe you are more than capable of doing that. I do believe you have a malignant nature, no matter what you try to prove to the blinded outsiders.

I’ll start with the story of when we first met. I’ll start just a tad before that.

It was the 20th of October, 2016. I was ecstatic to have been called to teach in such a well-known school. I spent five years teaching in an elementary school that I hated. I had a Bachelor’s in World History and an MA in American History. I was working my ass off to gain the money to take my PhD in American Studies.  I deserved to teach, at least, in a middle school if not a high school. In October, usually, schools don’t take new teachers; they don’t even see the applications. I had applied in the summer, when I was too done with my job. I wanted something more. However, nobody called. I told my mother maybe it was my fate. Maybe I should go back to Canada, maybe I should try a new career, maybe I should give up and stop looking. I didn’t like the fact of moving away from my family. I was happy enough to live two streets away from them. I was happy enough visiting them almost every day. That was my life. My simple life.

I had been single for three years before we met, and I was beginning to hate myself slowly. Cleansing time was over. I needed to hold on to something or someone. I got over her. We even became good friends. A part of me will always love her, but I was over her and I was over what had happened. I needed to have a new start; but nobody filled my eyes until that day I first met you.

It was a Thursday. I took a leave from my job. I lied. I told them I had to go to the embassy for some paperwork. I had been lying for that past week. Getting accepted to teach in one of Boston’s most prestigious private schools is a dream to every teacher. I just wanted a chance. I didn’t even think of passing the interview. But I did. They asked me to give a demo class. I also did that. It was not my best, I have to admit. I was nervous. They put me in the Middle School section. The school had two sections: from 6-8 and from 9-12. My demo class was for grade six.

That first day, a sweet art teacher told me not to be afraid. I heard people calling her Dr. Storey. I was impressed. “You have a PhD and you’re not teaching at college? Why?” She laughed the sweetest laugh I could ever witness. Her eyes were blue and charming.

“It’s not always about that. You’d be surprised to know the salary I was offered at some colleges is nothing compared to the one I take here.”

I thought for a minute, a bit excited about the fact I was finally going to take a better salary than the shitty one I took in my old school. “Salaries here are good?” I asked.

She laughed again. “Well, to some. You have to prove yourself first. They’ll probably give you the same salary you used to take in your old school, maybe a bit a higher, but don’t hope for too much. If you prove you’re good enough, next year they’ll give you a better one.” I nodded, satisfied with whatever I could get. I just wanted to pass the demo class and get in.

The supervisor told me I needed to give another demo class because that one did not go well. I thought to myself that good things would never happen to me. They gave me a week to prepare and a week I took, preparing a lesson about Columbus’ voyages to New England in order to explain to 8th graders. I was shitting my pants that day. I had a book in my hands. It was _Sons_ _and Lovers_ by D.H. Lawrence. I sat in the supervisor’s office for about an hour until it was my time to give the demo class.

A lot of teachers were coming and going. Dr. Storey, whose name, I learned from her later that day, is Emy, came in to say hi and wish me good luck. “They gave you a second chance, you’re already in, trust me.” She winked. I felt a little bit uncomfortable. I asked myself whether she knew I was into girls.

I mean, sure, I had short hair with a fringe that covered my shy eyes. I wore a white shirt that had dark blue polka dots and navy blue pants. I wore light brown oxfords that day. Emy did look like she was into girls. Maybe it’s a stereotype about art teachers, but she really did seem like she was into girls. The way she stared made me uncomfortable. I blushed, but it was not the same way you made me blush when you came in moments after her. Emy seemed like that person who knew what she wanted and she could get it, now I know she’s everything but that.

However, you Tegan, you knew exactly who and what you wanted. You knew exactly what you wanted to do. You knew everything. You planned it. You arranged it. You drew a map in your head and followed the map. Once it was time to change your direction you sought for it without any intention to look back and see the mess and dirt you have left behind. And now, now…now you are back begging like a fucking peasant who thinks they deserve every fucking thing because, oh well, they’re poor and they’re working hard. No, dear. If you think my heart is a toy to mess with, you’re only fooling yourself.

You, Tegan, you came in after moments and my heart stopped beating for a second. I gasped. Remember? I actually gasped when you entered with your made up aura, dressed in a white shirt, a black tie and black pants. Your hair was something else. It was short, shaved from one side, long and curled from the other. Your scent; however, it was so attractive I forgot that I was staring at you for too long until I caught you staring back, biting at the silver jewelry beneath your lips.

“Tegan, please tell me you’re fixing your computer soon. I need this, seriously,” my supervisor said when you were printing out some papers.

“Soon, I promise,” you spoke fast, biting at the damn barbell that I couldn’t stop staring at. “All done.” You laughed and took a look at the papers in your hands. “My students are gonna hate science because of me.”

“Go easy on them. We get it, you’re an engineer who teaches for fun,” my supervisor joked, but I could see how the words made you uneasy. You wanted to say something back, but you didn’t. After all, everybody was jealous of you. Everybody thought you were the best, only because you tricked them into thinking so. You were so intelligent in mind games; you drew a picture of yourself as the most perfect human being inside people’s heads and everybody, including myself, believed this picture perfect image you portrayed to the world. But not anymore. It’s funny how just the first date exposed you, and yet, I still did not care about how much of a weak liar you were.

Still are.

My supervisor did not bother introduce us that day, remember? So you did instead. “Hi…New teacher?” You blushed. You bit your lip and blushed.

But my reaction was worse than your nerves, because I couldn’t believe that this handsome human being was speaking to me out of nowhere. I lost my ability to speak. I stuttered and my voice was too soft for you to hear, or that’s what I thought. I said, “Yeah. Almost.”

“Ohhh.” You scratched the back of your head. “Well, good luck!”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I really need it.” I don’t know why I said that but I wanted to prove that I could be confident and I could talk more. Maybe I wanted you to talk to me more. I honestly don’t remember. I only remember how I watched your ass in those pants as you stepped out of the room. I pooled in my underwear. I told myself, please be gay, please be a sign.

And time proved that it was not a sign; it was just a sick plan to satisfy your curiosity and need.

I got accepted after that demo. I did great, but the principal wanted to see a third demo. I told her, “No, thank you. I have to get back to my work. It’s either a yes or a no!” I felt defeated. I wanted to cry.

She paused for a second, looked at my supervisor, then the English coordinator in the department, then looked back at me. “Come with me,” she said.

She took me to the owner of the school. He interviewed me in his large, luxurious office. He asked about my family, where I’m from, my past, where did I graduate from, and what my father worked. He seemed impressed and that’s when I felt that this school cared about appearances more than efficiency. I signed my contract that day.

“I’ll start working in the 25th,” I told my principal.

“25th? That’s late. We want you now. We have a teacher who left and we don’t trust the substitute teachers with those kids. That’s why we called you.”

“I can’t,” I said. “I have to quit my job, first. I have to do the necessary paperwork.”

I was the happiest human being. Emy ran to me before I left. “Please tell me you made it.”

“I did.” I smiled at her. She did a little dance that made some passing students whisper and laugh at her. I felt secondhand embarrassment for her.

“Hey, give me your number.”

“What?” I was surprised. Who is she to ask for my number? I thought to myself.

“You’re gonna need a lot of help in here, silly. I just thought I could…never mind.” I felt bad that I had such a strong reaction, but I didn’t feel bad to show that I am not interested in her attempts. Emy never attracted me. I liked her as a person; I never felt anything for her.

Though, you know that too well, right? You kept close distance and watched everything. You encouraged me to file a complaint about her. You planted the idea in my head. Remember?

I gave Emy my number, eventually. I expected she would be texting right away and I was right. I was at my parents’ house. We had family over from Scotland. My dad’s uncle, his wife and son visited that day. I sat on the couch and sipped my martini. My dad’s cousin is only two years older than me. We were talking about life far away from home and how much we both missed our old neighborhood in Vancouver. That’s when Emy texted. I shook my head and laughed. I didn’t respond right away.

“Sara found a new job,” my father bragged to his uncle. “She’s going to teach in Bright Way.”

“That’s fantastic,” replied the old man. “History, right?”

“Yes. American History. Grades six and seven.”

“I’m proud of her,” my mother said, smiling cheerfully. “She’s following the family legacy. She’s independent. She doesn’t want us to help her getting her PhD. She’s doing it all on her own and she’s still just 28.” I love my mum and everybody knows that, but that was the lie they used to tell everyone because it was too hard for them to admit that my dad lost so much money he could not afford getting me into a good university anymore. He worked in the embassy and used to have a furniture store that my mother managed. He lost his money and the store when it was caught on fire. His salary couldn’t get me into Harvard or Yale anymore. I accepted that because I was too old to rely on my parents, but my salary, too, could not get me into those schools. Plus, it was hard for me to get a scholarship because my GPA wasn’t the highest even though it was a nice 3.7. Other than that I was still a Canadian citizen and I was determined to stay so, so I was still going to get in as an international student, which required more money.

I forgot to respond to Emy. I listened to my uncle whine about his students in Edinburgh and then whine about his patients at the clinic. He was a plastic surgeon. My mother asked him for a couple of Botox injections for her face. She wanted them for free. She was joking but he said yes.

“You know it’s not legal to do it at home?” Peter, his son, said. “It can go wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care.”

“Can I have one for my forehead?” I asked.

“Shut up,” mother scolded. “Your face is nice and young. Don’t mess with it.

“I have lots of young patients. It works better when you’re young.”

“Sara, no,” my dad said.

“Fine.” I didn’t care much to insist. I grabbed my phone and replied to Emy.

_E: -Nice avatar!_

_S: -Thank you._

_E: -When are you supposed to come to school?_

_S: -Next Monday._

_E: -Can’t wait to see you._

_-You’ll love it here._

_S: -I hope so._

I was not able to show any type of emotion in talking to her. I knew she wanted to talk but I was formal. Very formal. I was doing my best to give her the hint that I was not going to flirt back with her.

_E: -Where are you from, Sara?_

_S: -Canada._

_E: -Whoa! Seriously?_

_S: -Yup!_

_E: -Now we have two teachers from Canada._

_S: -Really? We have another one?_

_E: -Yes. Her name is Tegan. She teaches science._

_-I think you saw her today. You know, kinda conceited, short hair, white shirt, black tie?_

_S: -Yeah, yeah. I remember._

And that was her name, I discovered that day. That was your name. Suddenly you were back on my mind and I couldn’t forget the image of you licking that piece of metal under your lips or the way your voice did things to me only Stacy had done years ago. That night I slept in my bed feeling normal once again. I’m alright, I told myself. I’m still fine. I can still feel attracted to people. I am still able to feel.

That was the day we first met, Tegan. I think to myself maybe you don’t deserve the pronoun ‘you’. Maybe I should never send this after I’m done. I might not finish it, who knows. Maybe I should talk to you in the third person and publish this as a book if it’s good when I’m done. Who knows!

That was just the beginning. I was immediately chased by Emy that day and you were already fixed inside my head. What I felt was pure, what I felt was something I couldn’t describe. I hadn’t felt like that since I was with Stacy. You woke what was dead in me. I didn’t know you only awoke it in order to stab it ten times worse, to kill each chance of it to get back to life. I didn’t know that the start of my emotional murder started that day we met.

 


	2. Chapter II - Rumors

Rumors, rumors, rumors. We live for rumors. We crave hearsay. We like to gossip and listen to other people gossiping. All of us spread rumors. It’s not just you or me, but everybody has spread rumors in that school. The teachers, the students, the supervisors, you, and me—we all spread rumors about each other without thinking of the consequences those heinous words would bring.

I went to work that week trying my best to convey the best picture of me. I have the tendency to get anxious and self-conscious, which never worked for me in my career. I got angry quickly. I spoke harsh words to those who were in bigger positions than mine, and I showed a bad attitude. However, I wanted this job so much I was willing to fake everything from that smile to the words I said. My supervisor hated me. She plotted against me. I was not the only one that faced that problem. The bitch just had issues. That first semester I was dragged with all the social studies and English teachers hatred for her. She supervised us and we made fun of her behind her back. I made friends quite quickly. The only person on good terms with Rachel was Emy. Rachel liked Emy and Emy liked Rachel. But Rachel did not supervise Emy as much as she supervised us. Probably because Emy was an art teacher and she had her own supervisor.

But here is the thing. The teachers wanted me to join their hate, because that would give them more power to get Rachel out of the school. Yeah, Rachel sucked. She often forgot to print out exams, she was hesitant, she was manipulative, she tried to sabotage events I participated in, and she tried to hook me up with Emy; but Rachel was not the only evil in that school. Later I realized every single teacher in there had fucked me up one way or another because I fucking deserved it. You know why? Because I was so naïve I allowed everyone to take advantage of me. And you, Tegan Clement, were only aware of your own scheme, which made you oblivious enough to what was going on around you; or at least that’s what you say.

Let’s start from the beginning. It was just a week after I began working. I had issues with my classes. The students already hated me. They wanted their old teacher back but their old teacher had suddenly left the country without notice. The school sued him. I was used to teaching young children and now I was suddenly teaching hormonal teenagers who thought they were the shit just because they were studying in a private school. I had to tell them I studied in a private school, too. I had to brag in order to be liked. But that was not what made them dislike me. It was the sexuality. It was the hair, the way I dressed, the way Emy always smiled at me, always talked to me, always chased me. They knew I was into women right away.

I decided to have some class discussion one day. I wanted an ice breaker. I told my students to raise their hands if they wanted to admit something to me. Nobody did. They didn’t trust me enough to tell me anything.

“I’m pretty sure we have things in common. I’m not that old.” Some laughed, but most of them rolled their eyes. “Who loves food?” I raised my hand. Everybody in that class did so, too. “Great. Who daydreams about food?” I kept my hand raised. Some dropped theirs but the majority still raised their hands. “See, we have things in common.”

“Alright, let me try,” a guy said. “Who loves Dr. Storey here?” The class laughed. Nobody raised their hands.

“I got one,” a girl said. “Who loves girls?” Boys raised their hands. I looked at them for a minute then raised mine. I wanted to cry because I knew I was a topic of mockery.

“I told you,” a girl shouted at one boy. “Give me my 20 bucks, asshole.”

People were betting on me. And I bet they did the same to you, but you did not give a single damn, or that’s what you showed them. I’m not mentioning names because you don’t know those kids; you taught grade eight. You don’t know the type of verbal harassment I heard from the students I taught. Most students loved you. They didn’t care you were into women, they didn’t care you dressed the way you dressed, walked the way you did, talked the way you liked; they loved you. But not all of them for sure.

“You know you shouldn’t stereotype me. I could be bisexual,” I said back.

“Same thing,” the girl said.

“It is not,” the guy said back.

“Well, are you bisexual?” the girl said again.

“I identify as queer woman.”

“What does that even mean?” some kid asked.

“It means she sleeps with everyone like Ms. Williams.”

“I am a gay woman. I only sleep with other women and, anyway, that’s none of your business,” I said back. I hoped I wouldn’t get in trouble for revealing too much about me, but I wanted so bad to be liked and understood that I didn’t give a fuck about any unprofessionalism.

“So are you and Dr. Storey a thing?”

“A thing?” I was surprised. Why were they asking me about that?

“Yeah. She’s a lesbian,” some girl chirped.

“Just because she’s a lesbian doesn’t mean there will be something between us. Do you date any boy you meet?” The girl shook her head. She felt embarrassed. I could see it. My eyes pierced through them. I scared them with my glares that day. They wanted to disrespect me but ended up intimidated by me. However, they still didn’t love me.

“You know Ms. Williams? The science teacher?” I shook my head. I hadn’t heard of that name before. “The hot one,” the boy insisted. “With the boobs and ass and short hair?”

“Yeahhh,” another guy chanted before I glared at the kids. “She has a piercing under lips, too.”

That was Tegan, I told myself. Everybody found her attractive. Everybody looked at her that way, even the kids in grade seven. “You know you’re not allowed to talk about teachers that way, but what about her?” I asked, trying to show that I did not give a single damn about you.

“She likes girls, too.” I smiled. I remember it too well. I, in fact, smirked and turned around to look at the smart board. I considered it a sign. But first, I had to know you were not with anyone. “Yeah, we see her posts on Facebook. She’s vocal about it.” My heart felt jealous those kids could easily access the thoughts you shared on social media and I couldn’t. I doubted that you were single. Someone like you could never be single, am I right?

That same week I was smoking outside with some teachers. We were not allowed to sneak out to smoke. But we did. They liked the fact that I was not the goody two shoes I seemed to be. We were a group of four teachers. They thought they could rate the hot male teachers in school.

“Ben,” said Lauren.

“Definitely a five,” answered Sandy.

“Why a five? Why not a one?” shot Hannah.

“Well, I think that with some sense of style he can be a 7.”

“That’s right, that’s right.” Laughed Lauren. “I give him a 5, too.”

“Yeah, he’s a five,” I said.

“Okay, next, umm Jake?” Sandy asked. “I think that’s a solid ten.”

“Oh yeah,” said the other two.

“What about you, Sara? What do you think?” asked Sandy.

“Well, I mean he’s nice looking but uh…” I was too nervous to tell them that I was not into men. Every time I try to come out to someone, I have to think twice before it. Unlike you, Tegan, I’m proud of who I am. I know who I am. I know what I want. I know that I am a lesbian. I’m only into girls. I like labeling myself that way. But each time someone wonders about my sexuality, I shrink myself into this abyss of nothingness the way you do on daily basis. But then I come right out of it when I remember that nobody should give a fuck and I should not be treated badly based on who I like to fuck. “I’m not really into men,” I said.

“Ohhh.” Lauren wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Some teachers said so but we didn’t believe them.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“You’re just so…” Hannah cut herself off and pointed at my body. “You know, kinda girly?”

“Yeah, like, you don’t give that vibe,” said Lauren.

“Have you seen Dr. Storey?” I nodded. “They mean _that_ vibe,” Sandy said.

“That’s kinda stereotypical.” It’s funny that my short hair and attire seemed girly to them. Maybe because most women wore suits since we had to wear formal clothing, but I did not seem so girly. Emy had longer hair than I did, but apparently she gave _the vibe_.

And then you remained on my mind. They didn’t mention you unlike my students. I wondered why they didn’t bring your name.

Sandy asked, “Okay, let’s see, who would you kind of rate a ten in here? Female teachers?”

I blushed but I knew exactly what I wanted to say because I was so attracted to you. I wanted to know more about you. “This, umm, science teacher, I guess? The one with the piercing under her lips.” I blushed more because their facial expressions were divided between smirks and astonishment.

“I caught her staring at you the other day,” said Hannah. “She was staring _that_ way.”

“I kind of did, too,” said Sandy. “She checked you out when you were walking to your class.”

You should have seen my face, Tegan. All types of red were splashed onto my skin. Even my neck and ears became red and hot. I thought it was the sign. I was dancing on the inside like a little school girl whose crush had just asked her out.

Because, Tegan, I saw you staring, too. I caught you a few times. You did not bother to say hi and I did not do it, too. I thought I was imagining. I thought I was paranoid. But you stared. You stared when I passed by. You stared when I spoke to Emy. You stared when I came and when I left. I could not even get a smile from you, so I didn’t smile back.

“Really? I never noticed,” I lied.

“You know what?” said Lauren. “We should hook you up with her. You said you’re single, right?”

“Uh, no, no, no.” I started to freak out because I didn’t want anybody to get into my personal life. I didn’t want anyone to keep records of what I liked and what I did. I knew right away saying your name was a mistake. “I mean, she’s probably with someone. It’s just an attraction, nothing more.”

“Listen to me.” Lauren seemed confident. Her smirk grew till it was a full cunning smile stretched from one ear to the other. “Tegan’s best friend is Jeremy. Jeremy happens to be…”

The girls rolled their eyes.

“Who’s Jeremy?” I asked.

“Her cousin.” Sighed Sandy. “He teaches French to seniors. He’s in the other section.”

“Okay.” I didn’t even know why a teacher from the other section would be your best friend. I was still unfamiliar with the school. I never went to the 9-12 section. I never interacted with the teachers. I didn’t even know what Jeremy looked like.

“So I can get some information from him.” Lauren winked.

“No, please. I just…I don’t want that. I don’t want my name to be out there. I mean, that’s not what I meant…” I was too anxious that I had done a huge mistake by saying your name and I was right. It was the worst mistake I have ever made.

“Relax. Nobody will say your name. I just wanna make sure she’s single because, trust me, if she is, she’ll be yours next week.”

It’s funny, right? It’s funny how she knew. I felt like she was bluffing, but she knew the kind of person you are and she thought I could be that person who would die just to get a smile and a sweet word from you, which I was…for awhile. But not anymore, Tegan.

“Come on. You can’t do that. Maybe the woman won’t even be attracted to me.”

“Oh, no, girl. I saw the way she looked at you,” Hannah commented. “She licked her lips. She was undressing you with her eyes. Believe me when I say Tegan doesn’t look at people that way. Her ego doesn’t make her see anyone but herself.”

I wish I had taken those words more seriously. I wish I listened carefully and analyzed those words the way I over analyze everything in my head.

“Do you dare me, Sara Quin?” Lauren was smirking at me.

I couldn’t resist not responding, “I dare you.” I didn’t think of the harm this was going to bring later on.

I went out with my friends that night. I told them about you and how hot you were. “Get it,” one said. “I need a picture,” the other said. I tried to look you up on Facebook. I just couldn’t find any results. I didn’t have any friends from school on my Facebook yet so there were no mutuals between us. I just wanted to show them a picture of you. I wanted to find you so badly I actually spent hours stalking before falling asleep on my couch.

You weren’t there on Friday. I looked around and you didn’t come to school. I felt disappointed. I didn’t want to bring it up to Lauren or Sandy or anyone. I didn’t want to seem like I’m desperate. It was a joke anyway.

Emy was in the drama club, working on a couple of plays for the talent show at the end of the semester. My supervisor encouraged me to help her in the drama club because students were slowly starting to like me and I had patience and energy. She also said that I needed to show my strong presence in the school by helping with such activities. All of those were lies. She just wanted to hook me up with Emy. I figured out later that Emy had requested that from her.

Innocently, I joined the drama club. Emy was a professional, which I did not expect. She took this activity seriously. But Emy wasn’t alone. Sandy was there. I was happy to see a friend there. Emy didn’t seem too happy because we kept each other distracted and the girls in the play were more distracted by our own distraction.

I admit, I did not have a great start.

Sandy taught science, too. Sandy knew Tegan so well, but she did not bring it up until awhile later.

I went out with Sandy for coffee over the weekend. She told me that Tegan didn’t talk to anyone except Jeremy. Actually, Tegan talked to a lot of people, just not in front of everyone. Right, Tegan? You tell me!

“I didn’t like that you kinda mentioned her name in front of Lauren and Hannah.”

“Why?” I asked.

“They’re gonna tell everyone you have a crush on her.”

“I didn’t say I have a crush on her. I said that I found her attractive. I mean you guys were rating guys, anyway.”

“Sara, you don’t get it.” Sandy sighed. “Those girls are fucked up. They already think you’re competition and now they have something against you.”

I was shocked that day. I felt embarrassed. I wanted to cry. “Listen, I know we were joking. But please don’t mention anyone you like in front of people you barely know. You don’t know who might hurt you.”

Her words made me paranoid. What if she’s the person I’m not supposed to believe? I did not know that there existed so much rivalry at work as much as I did teaching in that school. I spent a long time blaming Sandy for a lot of things, but she was actually the only person who stood by my side. I spent so much time trusting the worst people, and I regret it. God, I regret it. I bet you do, too. Unless that it was part of the plan.

On Monday, I saw you staring at me. Our eyes met. I averted my gaze immediately. When I looked back, you were still staring at me. Then I remembered the dare. My heart was beating like a hammer hitting a wall for hours and hours unending. I wanted to throw up. I could barely give a class. I had to talk to Lauren.

I took her outside in our break. We started smoking and then I brought it up.

“So, what happened to the dare? Caved in yet?” I wanted to seem careless even though my stomach was cramping and my back was tingling with sweat.

She pressed her lips together then gave me a lopsided smile. Her brown irises moved left and right before she finally talked, “I actually talked about it to Jeremy.”

“Okay?” I laughed nervously. I bet she could hear how loud my heart was beating.

“You know, you should just forget about it.”

“Umm…I did not even think about it, Lauren. You mentioned it.”

“Yeah, exactly. So just forget about it.”

My curiosity stabbed my insides. I wanted to know. “Now I’m just curious?”

“Well, you see Jeremy said you should stay away from her. She’s not good.”

“Aha.” I could only translate that to one thing: _You’re not attractive enough for me._ I imagined you saying it Tegan. I imagined you scoffing and mocking. _She likes me? What the fuck. She’s so not my type. Not really attractive._ I remember tearing up.

“Oh, my God, don’t cry.” I hate the fact that I am so weak, that my tears are so easy. “In all honesty, Sara? I did not only ask Jeremy. I asked more people. Some told me she’s dating someone in the other section, some said she took advantage of a teacher in here; other people said she’s a womanizer and nobody would like to get with her. So just forget her. I bet that if you ask her out she’d be happy about it, but I don’t recommend it.”

Here is the thing, Tegan, I never believed Lauren. Everyone told me not to believe her. When I told you about what she said you got angry because you barely knew her. You wondered why people talked about you like that, but I’m hoping if you take a look inside your mind and maybe take a peek at the box of memories in your head, you might see where that talk came from. But if you don’t want to, I hope this _whatever_ I’m writing can enlighten your mind.

I should have believed Lauren. See how many mistakes I’ve made? First, I mentioned your name. Second, I didn’t believe Lauren. Let’s discover the other mistakes, shall we?

I called Sandy after work. I told her about what Lauren said and how strange it was to see you staring at me all day long.

“You actually believe her?” Sandy said. “These are rumors.”

“I don’t. But why would she lie?”

“Look, Tegan is so polite with everyone. I never even saw her standing with any man or woman. She only talks to Jeremy. And, trust me, they’re not lovers.”

“I just feel so stupid. I’m pretty sure she told Jeremy I was wondering whether she’s single and Jeremy told Tegan. Otherwise, why would she look at me like that?”

School drama, right? Or teachers drama. In my old school, nothing of that sort happened. But, God, this place seemed at one point like a club to hook up in not a fucking school.

“You know what? I’ll call Jeremy. I’ll try to figure out what she said.”

“No!”

“Yes! You don’t know what the fuck she has said.”

I allowed Sandy to call Jeremy. I’m still not sure whether that made it worse or better. I felt stupid that day. I cried in my place alone. And that was the first time I have felt so lonely, desperate, and pathetic since Stacy had left.

Sandy called after half an hour.

“I talked to Jeremy.”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing of that sort has happened, Sara. Relax.”

“What happened?”

“I told him I wanted to know what Lauren said and what did he say back because it was a stupid joke that Lauren took too seriously and you don’t want Tegan to understand you’re running after her.”

“Okay?”

My heart was drumming again.

“Jeremy said that he didn’t even say anything about you. Tegan is single. He just asked her why she wouldn’t start dating. Tegan said that she was not ready. So Jeremy said, ‘What about that new teacher? I heard she’s gay.’ And Tegan told him that she knew but she was not ready to be in a relationship or commit to anyone at the moment. She needed time on her own.”

That was supposed to be a relief, right? You were just not ready.

But you know how I interpreted it? _She’s not attractive enough to get me back to dating._

Part of it is right, right?

“See, these are just stupid rumors. The woman is simply not ready. Just forget about her. You’re hotter anyway.”

Do rumors come out of the blue? I believe not. There wouldn’t be smoke if it wasn’t for the fire.

That night I cried so hard. I cried like a teenager. I don’t know why I cried. I cried because I got rejected and I’m used to getting everything I wanted. I cried on my pillow and promised myself not to hope for anyone. I missed Stacy. I wanted her so much. I almost called her but I didn’t.

Then Emy texted. I wanted to throw my phone. I wanted to tell her to fuck off, but I just didn’t reply.

I promised myself that I would make you chase after me. I promised myself that I would make you know what you’re missing. I picked nice outfits. I fixed my makeup and walked with confidence the next day. I ignored you even though you still stared. I didn’t know that while I was ignoring everyone and everything, rumors were spreading like cancer all around me. You didn’t know it, too.

 


	3. Chapter III - Law of Attraction

Before subconsciously practicing it, I had heard a lot about the law of attraction. I never believed that it was true. I still don’t. I did when I thought it had worked, but I don’t anymore. After the whole Lauren mess, I ignored you completely. I walked right beside you and I did not even smile. My eyes met yours and none of us said a word to the other; it’s as if we were both invisible. We both neglected the fact that it was you who spoke to me first when I was doing the demo class. Actually, with all honesty, I thought you forgot that it was me. You were in a hurry that day. We barely spoke for a minute.

I told my childhood best friend everything. I never told you about this friend. Her name is Christine. We were together in school back in Vancouver. We remained friends even though I had left Canada a long time ago. I was only fifteen when I did. I told Christine about everything that had happened to me, the way I used to narrate my entire routine with Stacy, not minding getting reprimanded and scolded by my friend for the foolishness of my mind. Christine hated love or commitment or relationships unlike the dreamer that I was. Whenever I talked about somebody new, she found something wrong with that person, especially if that person was a manipulative, backstabbing bitch like you. She hated Stacy way too much for the shit she put me through, but you, Tegan; you exceeded the limits of hatred. You were simply too trashy to even mention at one point. So I stopped mentioning your name to her and if I did, I’d use the name we gave you: _Trashcan_.

We gave Stacy names, too. We gave her: poison, beast, predator, witch, and monster. We gave you Rory…remember that character in _Gilmore Girls_? Oh, wait. You haven’t watched that show because it was too _‘simple’_ for your smart, wild brain. Yeah, we called you Rory because you didn’t know what you wanted. You were lost, you were emotionally unstable, you messed with people’s heads, and still thought you were the one being messed with. You fucked with everyone and still wondered why life was fucking you in the ass twice on Sundays.

We also gave you _‘Pollution’_ because you were just not that useless to anyone. But then I settled on _‘Trashcan;’_ a useless, dirty, metal container that holds trash, just like all the stuff that’s inside you; all the trash inside your mind and heart.

Pathetic, right? I’m that pathetic. But at least I was honest. At least I didn’t lie. At least I didn’t hurt you.

My friendship with Sandy strengthened all of a sudden when we had an Open Day at school. Students began to love me as I joked and shared some input about my personal life with them. Students loved her very much. Sandy and I both shared our love for food to an obsessive level. The Open Day was all about bringing food, selling it, and then donating the money to charity; which is basically a bake sale with some music and other festivities I didn’t care much about. That day, we bought so much food and we were given so much food for free, too. We hid inside one classroom and spent hours eating and chatting. She told me about her old boyfriend, how abusive and fucked up he was. He broke her arm once because of a silly fight. She was going to be the maid of honor in her sister’s wedding. He didn’t like it. It was weird for me to digest, but apparently he was going to propose and he didn’t want her to appear _single_ to everyone. He didn’t propose because of the fight. I, myself, have been a bridesmaid in three weddings. And you, Tegan, have been a bridesmaid in…oh, wait…I don’t know. Why? Because you barely shared anything about your life with me. You shared bits and pieces of what you wanted me to know. You decided what I should and should not know. I don’t even know if what you shared is true or all a lie you had made up to follow your own plan.

“You know, I like you,” Sandy told me after a few weeks while we were in her car, smoking and waiting for our classes to start. “At first, when Hannah introduced you to us, I was like why the fuck is she getting Ms. Perfect in here?”

“Ms. Perfect? You think I’m like that?”

“Oh, you know, all shiny, clean, beautiful, rich. You didn’t seem like someone who would smoke and curse all the damn time. You didn’t even seem fun to hang out with.”

“Now I’m fun?” I laughed, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I knew you’re just the right person to hang out with during the Open Day when you ate everything with me.” See, simple nice people bond over food. We find the few things we have in common and take them without having to analyze everything. Sandy and I were different, you know. She was 35 and I was 28. She was struggling with rent, struggling with her alcoholic mother, struggling with relationships, and hated her body. I was just a rich girl with nice clothes and a loving family to her. Still, she didn’t treat me differently, she didn’t analyze the differences and didn’t think herself better than me just because she had to work harder, because that’s not for her to decide and that’s not for anyone to decide how hard I am working. You can’t really see it if you only analyze from the glimpses you take of me, from what I decide to show you, right?

“But there’s still something, Sara Quin. Something intriguing about you. There must be some wild story out there, something that made you so cold.”

“You think I’m cold?”

“Cold and serious, yes.”

_Cold and serious!_  These words ring a bell? I only figured out that you have told her that I am cold and serious when you said these words to me. See, here I still didn’t know Sandy talked to you briefly. She still didn’t tell me. Sandy; however, barely told you anything about me. Yet, when I started to suspect something was off, I couldn’t believe it was someone else who was saying shit about me other than Sandy. I was stupid.

“There is a story,” I said quietly, tracing the rim of the cup in my hand. “I’m not sure if it’s worth telling.”

“Come on. Tell. I’ll tell you something crazy I did.” I laughed. She already told me so much about her but I didn’t share. I wanted to throw away the memories of Stacy behind, so I didn’t feel like sharing. But since she did, I thought why not.

“There was this woman.” Sandy adjusted her seating position; she looked at me and smirked, waiting for my tongue to release the words hidden inside. “Her name is Stacy. She was my mother’s friend.”

“Oh my God,” shouted Sandy with laughter. “I knew there was something twisted about you.”

“No, no. She’s not old. She’s a few years older than me. She’s actually almost 34.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah. My mother makes friends with all kinds of people, young and old. She met Stacy at this embassy party. Stacy’s husband works in the Canadian embassy with my dad, so…”

“Shit, a married lady.” I nodded, feeling ashamed already. “See, I knew it.”

“Stacy started visiting mum a lot. I joined them. I was just out of college back then and I was jobless. I just felt so attracted to her. She was sweet. She was just…amazing.”

“You fucked?”

“Well, yeah.” I laughed. “One day she wanted to be with me and the other she didn’t. It was hard for us to meet until I got that apartment I live in now. We met there almost every day for some fucking and loving.”

“What happened?”

“I wanted her so bad. I wanted her to leave her husband. I wanted her to be with me. I begged, I pleaded. I did everything I could to persuade her.”

“You loved her.”

“Yeah. I really did. She said she loved me but I doubt it.”

“And?” I sighed. I didn’t want to tell her that part. I hated that part. I still hate it.

“One day after sex she told me she’s pregnant.”

“Fuck.” Sandy was enjoying the story but I did not enjoy telling the story.

“I told her to leave and be with me, we could raise the baby together. She looked at me as if I had said the most absurd thing on earth. To her, I was just a little girl. I knew nothing about life. She left and I didn’t hear from her for over a year.”

“That’s tough. What happened? Did your mother find out?”

“My mother suspected it. I told her we were just friends. But no, nobody found out. Stacy, let’s say, was my first love. I loved her so much.”

“Did she come back?”

“She did. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to fix our relationship because it was hard for her to be friends with my mother knowing she did what she did to me. She wanted us to be friends.”

“And your nice, innocent heart said yes in hopes someday she’ll come back.”

“Yeah.” Sandy shook her head laughing at me. I almost cried.

“Those women are just hungry for an experience. Ask someone who’s done just that. I was a Stacy to someone for awhile. It was just fucked up.”

“You’ve been with women?”

“Yeah. Just one woman. I liked it very much but I’m not quite sure about my sexuality yet.”

That was the first time I found Sandy attractive. Her eyes were almost grey in color, her face was tanned and her hair was light brown. I liked how she looked. I was lonely, I wanted any release. I wanted any person to tell me they’re into girls and didn’t mind experimenting with other women. Fucked up, right? Almost as fucked up as you are.

Just then Emy passed by. She looked at me with the cigarette between my fingers as if I was committing a crime. Her car was next to Sandy’s. She opened the door, took her phone out then slammed it.

“Hey there,” she said.

“Hi,” Sandy said back. Emy nodded and walked away. “She was saying hi to you, by the way.”

“I know,” I said.

“She likes you.”

“I know,” I said. But I didn’t. Everybody knew she liked me by then.

In Drama Club Emy was in charge of training and taking pictures. She took so many pictures of me. It bothered me till I told her to fuck off in front of my students, who laughed and whispered. It hurt her feelings. She sent me the pictures that day with an apology.

E _: -I just wanted to capture your features. You’re beautiful._

_-But I’m sorry._

_-I didn’t know I was bothering you._

I told her it was okay. Her pictures were pretty. I had to admit.

“Why not? She’s attractive and she’s loaded,” Sandy said.

“Do I look like I care about that?” I said.

“Oh yeah. I forgot. Mommy and Daddy are rich and white and you have a reputation to maintain.”

“Fuck off,” I said, laughing. “What does that have to do with it, anyway? You, yourself, just said she’s loaded. Plus, we’re not that rich, you know.”

“No, you’re not. The mansion your parents live in just grew out of the ground one day.”

“First of all, that’s my father’s money, which he wasted on gambling at a certain point. We almost lost the house.”

“Jesus, seriously? I mean, it didn’t seem like that.”

“Yeah, well, each family goes through shit.” I sighed, throwing the butt of my cigarette out of the window. “We had a furniture store, too. It got caught on fire and our insurance only covered half of it back in 2010.”

“Shit, that’s rough.” I hummed, thinking about Emy. I needed to put a stop to her attraction. I needed to find a way to stop her from wanting me. I don’t know why I was so caught up on stopping her. I could have just let her be but I didn’t.

That day she texted me:

E: - _I didn’t know you smoked._

S: _-Why is it something that you have to know?_

E: - _You didn’t seem like someone who smokes._

S: - _Well, I do._

E: - _You actually smoke or you smoke for fun in order to fit in with them?_

I was irritated by her attempts to know details about me. I could have told her it was none of her business what I did and didn’t do but, God; I was so nice and polite.

S: - _I smoke._

Which was a lie. I smoked for fun. I smoked with Stacy. I smoked secretly behind my parents’ back. But with my friends at work, I pretended to be a smoker.

I started going out a lot with Sandy. I didn’t realize those were dates. We talked about everything. We laughed. I enjoyed her company and she enjoyed mine. So I told my friends about Sandy. They were worried that I was pulling myself into a complex relationship just to fill the void. I didn’t see what’s complex about Sandy. She was single and so was I. We were both sexually attracted to each other, but none of us liked the other that way. There didn’t seem any harm. At least compared to the relationship you and I had, there didn’t seem any harm.

But then you started showing in the picture slowly. You were completely off my mind that I did not even think about you anymore. Sandy and I were joking about a French teacher with green eyes. We kept on whispering to each other how hot she looked and how we’d tap that. I suddenly found myself more liberated being with her. I didn’t have the social chains that constrained me from acting so normal and natural around people. You came into the Staff Room one day asking for Sandy. Sandy and I were alone with the French teacher who was busy correcting notebooks. We were laughing together when you came in, asking Sandy for the lab sheets. You looked at me and I looked at you for a second, then you looked back at Sandy, took the sheets and got lost.

“Ugh,” Sandy said. “So weird and full of herself.”

“Nobody annoys me in this school more than her,” the French teacher said.

“And what’s up with the fancy suits? We get it, you have money, you can dress, you’re professional.” Sandy shit talked you, Tegan. She thought you were rich, can you believe that? She thought that the suits you wore were fancy. She couldn’t tell that just because a person had a good sense of style it didn’t mean they were rich. Everybody envied you, even Sandy who had a mild crush on you, even me, who didn’t know how to feel about you anymore. You were the school’s favorite teacher. The principal loved you. Parents loved you. Students loved you. Everybody thought you were all that.

Sandy started spending the night at my place. We listened to music and celebrated our love for food by eating everything we could then we woke up the next day regretting it. I am much smaller than Sandy when it comes to weight, which kind of made her upset when she realized that I ate as much as her and didn’t gain weight like she did.

“I gain weight but I exercise a lot.”

“I was as small as you once,” she told me. “When my father died I went into depression and I couldn’t do much. I ate a lot, I stopped going to school for a year, I didn’t move from my room. And now, no matter what I do, I can never lose weight.”

“I mean, is it that bad? To you? Because it doesn’t really matter as long as you’re happy. And food is happiness.”

“It depends on my mood. I hate looking at myself when I’m naked.” I wanted to tell her to let me be the judge of that. I wanted to sleep with her. I was willing to sleep with her that night. I gave hints. I just wanted to sleep with anyone I was mildly attracted to.

We ended up making out only. She pulled away with laughter, removing the hand I had on her breast. “Do you like me, Sara Quin?”

“I’m sexually attracted to you,” I admitted, “but I don’t have any feelings for you.”

“Fair enough.” She kissed me again and I touched her breasts above her shirt again.

But that’s the farthest we had gotten. Nothing more happened. She didn’t want to, which was the right thing to do. We were friends, why would we ruin it by sleeping together? Though, we did ruin it with jealousy.

Drama Day was approaching and we were not doing well with our plays. Every teacher involved was supposed to have a play to direct. Sandy already had one, it was written by the students themselves. Then I helped her write one about diabetes, which I directed with her. So I was already supposed to have one. Emy said that I should have one on my own because Sandy thought that was hers. The idiot that was me agreed so I wrote a shorter, more appropriate version of _Our Town_ by Thornton Wilder. I spent all night writing and editing. I came the next day, I showed it to Emy and she liked it. Then the bitch Rachel took a look at it, she skimmed it and threw it in her trashcan.

“What the fuck?” Emy said.

“Uh…I spent all night writing that.”

“Emy, do the version you wrote last year of _Prince and the Pauper_. Just choose different actors this year. It was a success.” She looked at me, smiled politely, and said, “That was not appropriate. We will get complaints from parents that we are making their children think about death and time so I’ll give you some sketches you can work on with the sixth graders.” That was more than offensive to me. I got angry. You know how I get when I’m angry. I left her office cursing and swearing in tears. Emy tried to calm me down but it didn’t work.

Rachel gave me the most stupid and boring sketch I could ever think of. I hated it. I didn’t want to direct that play. I barely took my kids to practice and my attention was solely focused on training the other kids for the diabetes play. Sandy insisted telling everyone it was her play even though it was my script and I was working hard on training them.

I still didn’t say anything. I ignored it all. I played dumb. I don’t know why I did that, but I lacked confidence and that was my major error when it came to my career; I was always so afraid to speak against what’s wrong or take what’s mine. Why? I don’t get it. I still don’t get it. I think I got that from my dad. My mum is strong and sassy when she wants to be, but my dad is a forgiving fool with a heart like candy. How fucked up is that when we live in a world full of people like you and Rachel and Sandy…oh, and Lindsey. Don’t forget Lindsey.

What does this have to do with the law of attraction? Here it comes. Since I have neglected you and abandoned the thoughts of you completely, somehow you found that alluring, right? I once promised myself you would run after me. I had forgotten that promise until you started making yourself visible each day, getting closer to me through Sandy.

You and Sandy spoke on the phone a lot, but it was all about science. She told me about it. She showed me the messages. However, one morning she came up to me and said, “Tegan just hit on me.”

I didn’t get it. I felt a pang of jealousy but I didn’t get it.

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“In the Parent-Teacher Meeting, like after everyone was gone, she started talking about her students going nuts about the reproduction unit and how it was uncomfortable for her and asked me if my students did the same.”

“Yeah?” I was eager to know what Tegan had said to Sandy. What had this mysterious person revealed or uttered? I was dying to find out.

“I told her that they kinda did the same at first. You know, I told you, made some stupid comments and some moaning sounds and said a couple of inappropriate words?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gladly, I wasn’t teaching something that would make me feel embarrassed because I already received some comments about how beautiful my ankles looked and how nice my lips seemed by my students. Ankles and lips, can you believe it, Tegan?

“Then I told her how they’re normal about it now so she started laughing. I thought I said something wrong, she told me that I didn’t.”

“Okay?”

“So she was like, ‘one of my students made a comment about your breasts and the class joined them; but don’t worry, even though I believe the comment is true, I shut them up and threatened them with marks.’”

“Shit, what the fuck?” I sat up, disgusted and weirded out by how blunt you seemed.

“I know. I’m just shocked. I asked her what’s the comment and she said that I have the most beautiful breasts. I was so uncomfortable. She apologized she had to tell me that but she felt like she couldn’t hide it. She seemed like she was really embarrassed, but man, that was weird.”

My jealousy slapped me in the face that I made sure to come to work the next day wearing my tight red shirt and a black jacket on top. I made sure to pick one of my best bras to show that I could have great breasts, too. Luckily for me, you talked to me that day, but unluckily, you only talked because you were talking to Sandy.

We were standing by my classroom’s door, talking about Drama Day. You passed by and told her something about science that I can go a year without understanding because I’m this bad in science. She said something back, and you said something else. I felt lost and uncomfortable. Remember what I said?

“Okay, this is too much science for me. I’ll leave you guys alone.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Tegan, you said immediately. “We’re done, trust me.”

“Good, because, like, I don’t know anything about science.”

“Oh, really? What’s your major?” You pretended not to know. “I mean what do you teach?” I knew you pretended not to know and I played along.

“American History. I majored in World History and minored in Literature, though. But my MA was in American History.”

“Whoa, you have a master’s degree?”

“From Yale,” Sandy sang, wiggling her eyebrows. You seemed so impressed, Tegan. You looked at me for a few seconds and I was blushing. I was about to shit my pants and that’s when I realized I still had a crush on you.

That weakened, you added Sandy on Facebook. She sent me a screenshot of your friend request. Your name was Tegan Rain. I wondered why. I didn’t know that was your middle name. I felt jealous, too. I went and stalked you. I also found your Instagram. I stalked that too all night long. But I did not do it alone; Christine was doing it with me from her place in Vancouver. She sent me pictures of you with the captions that you have put:

_#WomenInSuits #Gentleman #Gentlewoman #Handsome_

Quite egocentric, right? I still didn’t care. You looked so hot with that curled fringe. I wanted to taste your lower pouty lip and toy with the piercing; I wanted to touch you badly. I wanted to caress your skin.

Christine also sent me pictures of you working with a group of people on something that has to do with green buildings and some eco friendly shit that I did not care about and did not even understand. Someone had commented: “Best coach.” And another commented: “I miss you, boss.”

I also felt jealous of your success, still not knowing that it was just an image you built to delude people like those in our job. You made yourself seem so huge and so big, Tegan. And you’re literally nothing. You aspire to be everything, but you’re nothing.

A week after, you added me on Facebook. It was out of the blue. I sent the screenshot to Sandy, too.

But nothing changed until Drama Day. It was a week before Christmas break. I didn’t know I was subconsciously cooking the law of attraction. That day was a disaster. I still consider it a disaster.

Emy was in her best blue suit. She looked quite elegant. She had to present the show. Sandy was nervous but confident. While, on the other hand, I hated my sketch, I wanted to get it over with. My students weren’t well-trained and the principal had all eyes on me. The devil Rachel came wishing us luck. I smiled at her and walked backstage to my students. I tried my best to get them to know the lines but they kept messing up. It was a short sketch, it was stupid, and it was hard.

Emy came up to me, showing me the set. “Sandy didn’t put your name in Diabetes, I’m gonna put it.” But Rachel overheard and came over to Emy. “Diabetes and Don’t Judge are both directed by Sandy. Sara directed World Record.”

“She worked on Diabetes, too. I was there,” Emy argued. She was trying her best to help me out, to make me speak up, she was fighting for my right and all I did was get annoyed by her. I wanted to punch her, I wanted to stop her and tell her I could defend myself. It’s funny, right? If I could, why didn’t I do it? I just didn’t. And it’s funny because she was the person I dreamed a lover would be while you were the complete opposite and I still chased you as if you were the oxygen mask I needed to breathe. Why did I chase after the emotionally unstable and abusive people all the time? Why?

So, you know what I did? I let go. I let go of it. I didn’t care Sandy took my work and claimed it hers. I assumed that the success of the show would mean a success for us all and it didn’t matter who directed what. I was wrong.

My sketch was supposed to be first but then they put it last. My students got restless and angry. They were children, they cared. I didn’t care because I wasn’t confident enough in their abilities to perform. I saw you in the audience clapping after Don’t Judge. Sandy came up to me to tell me you were there in the audience and you were clapping. She was so happy about that. I was just hateful and anxious.

“Don’t worry. Look how good they were. Everyone will do well. Just have some confidence,” Sandy told me.

“It’s easy for you to say, your plays are really good and your students are trained.”

“But you trained them with me and you wrote Diabetes.” Why did Sandy admit it to me but not to anyone else? Why? Why couldn’t she say it to Rachel? But Rachel knew, too. And why couldn’t I confront her about it?

I was scared our friendship was going to die. I didn’t want to have enemies. Just like I was scared you would leave me whenever you said something I couldn’t tolerate or touched me in a way I didn’t like and I didn’t stop you. I was scared you would leave. I was dumb enough to think you actually considered yourself mine and considered me yours, Tegan.

Then Rachel came up to me and said that we had to cancel one of the remaining plays because it was time kids got home and the show took more than it was supposed to take. “We’ll cancel yours because you’re not that ready, okay? I mean Sandy worked hard on hers.”

Emy heard her and came up. “No. Cancel Diabetes because Sandy already showed one of her plays. That’s not fair.”

“Uh…I mean, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“We asked Sandy first,” Rachel said. “She said over her dead body.”

“It’s okay, just cancel mine.” I didn’t know that making such a decision (another mistake if you’re still counting) was going to give me such a terrible reputation in the school, and I didn’t know it was going to bring me to you. Emy shook her head at me in disappointment. I rolled my eyes and walked backstage.

My kids were already crying, weeping, throwing tantrums about their canceled play. It was not fair to them and I didn’t realize that what we were doing wasn’t for us, it was for them. I got so caught up in the competition that I forgot why I was a teacher in the first place, why I chose teaching, why I loved teaching. I started to cry, too. I never cried in front of my students but I started to cry.

Rachel came up to me and said, “You told us to cancel the play. You begged for it.” She put words in my mouth I didn’t say. “So why are you crying?”

“I didn’t,” I screamed. “Are you serious? You wanted to cancel a play and you asked me. I let you, but I didn’t tell you to cancel it. If I wanted to cancel it, I wouldn’t have included it in the first place.”

I stormed out of the school theater quickly, anger and rage covered me and I guess you remember that too well. I saw Emy on the stairs. She stopped me. I didn’t want to talk to her because she was the one who figured out the fault in me, she saw my weakness, she knew who I actually was.

“Why do you let them step on you? Why do you let them take your places? What’s wrong with you?”

“Leave me the fuck alone. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.” I walked up the stairs and you were going down in this long black coat. I almost ran into you but I didn’t. I had to call the parents to apologize that their kids’ play got canceled, as if it was my mistake. That day I realized working in a public school was better because in private schools they only care about the money and the parents. They did not really care much about teachers.

I sulked in my apartment that night. It was a Friday night and I should have been out with my friends, but instead I bought some good liquor and drank while talking to Christine on the phone.

Then the law of attraction played its role. I was just talking about you; about how calm and gorgeous you looked that day while I was a storm of anger passing by. I talked about your smile. How you started smiling at me when you passed by. Tegan this, Tegan that. I talked so much about you that I didn’t notice the person who was messaging me on Facebook was you.

“Christy, just wait a minute, some asshole keeps sending me messages on Facebook. Let me see who it is.”

I took a look at my phone’s screen and screeched.

“Oh my God,” I screamed. “It’s her. Fuck, it’s Tegan.”

“Are you serious? What is she saying?”

“Wait, let me read.” I read half of your message from the notifications. I didn’t want to open it and seem desperate or excited. _“Hello, Ms. Quin. I hope I’m not bothering you. I couldn’t help but notice you were so angry today. I just want to make sure everything…”_ And I couldn’t read what it said more. “Look, I gotta go. Bye.”

“Don’t be so easy, okay? Tell me what happens. Text me everything. Screenshots.” We were like two teenagers that night. I sent her your messages and the way you flirted and she told me that it was officially flirting. We didn’t know you were a natural flirt because you really didn’t talk to anyone at school.

T: _\- Hello, Ms. Quin._

_\- I hope I’m not bothering you. I couldn’t help but notice you were so angry today. I just want to make sure everything is alright. I wanted to talk to you but the time was not right. Are you better now?_

S: -Hi. You can call me Sara!

- _Thank you for checking. That’s sweet of you. It was just something about the Drama show. They canceled my play. I got angry. They blamed it on me._

T: _-That’s awful. I didn’t know that. Why would they do such a thing?_

S: - _No time and there were only two plays to cancel so mine was the easy option. The kids were the ones who were upset, really. But yeah._

T: - _Well, screw them. Like I said, I wanted to talk to you but it was a bit intense. You can’t always talk to people at school._

S: - _You can always talk to me._

I wanted to make sure you knew that I was more than needy for you to talk to me. I wanted you to know that I welcomed it, and I guess you knew that very well.

T: - _I just wanted to say that scowling does not suit you at all. You have a pretty face, don’t scowl. ;)_

I was taken aback. That was flirting, right? A little bit I guess. Christine was sure it was flirting.

S: - _Thank you. I’m sorry I almost knocked you over while running upstairs today._

T: - _It’s okay. Have a good night!_

S: - _Goodnight to you, too._

And that’s how it all started. If it wasn’t for my mistake and anger, you wouldn’t have talked to me, right? Or that’s what I tell myself. I still don’t know the truth, Tegan. I still don’t know the scheme. I still don’t know your side of the story.

Was it law of attraction or was it a plan?

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter IV - Chatting

Alright…let’s focus on that week in particular; the week before Christmas break. After our chat, you said hi to me on Monday. But that’s not what I want to talk about. Lindsey is the topic of this chapter.

That week Lindsey came back to school. To those of you reading (in case I publish this one day), Lindsey has worked in this school for five years. She got married, left the city and got a divorce then came back. Lindsey seemed nice. I liked Lindsey. I learned all that in that week. Just one week made me learn what Lindsey decided I should learn about her. You know who didn’t like Lindsey? Sandy.

Sandy and Lindsey once were best friends. Both science teachers shared a lot in common until Lindsey began to show her true colors to Sandy; that’s what Sandy told me when she sensed me getting closer to Lindsey. You know what I thought? I thought Sandy was jealous because Lindsey was going to get her classes the second semester. In case you don’t know why, it’s because Sandy got fired, so that was the last week of her working in school.

Tegan, you were very upset Sandy got fired because she was your partner in work. You liked her, she was nice. I did, too. However, I did not listen to a word Sandy said because I was still upset about that drama day, even though Sandy went to Rachel and told her that the person who actually worked on the diabetes play was me. It didn’t matter though, did it?

I still don’t know why I was doing that. I don’t know why I allowed people I didn’t know to control me. Lack of confidence, insecurity, terrible personality—name all of them. But I know for sure the reason that I got closer to Lindsey was her confronting me about Emy’s feelings for me. As you know too well, she and Emy were (and I’m using the past tense here on purpose) best friends.

“Emy really likes you,” she told me one day. “Give her a chance.”

I shrugged, blushing. “I can’t. I don’t have feelings for her.”

“She’s amazing! She’s so nice. She’s loving. When Emy likes someone, she becomes crazy about them, she’ll get them everything they want.”

“No,” I refused. “She’s a good person and all but I don’t feel anything towards her. I just don’t.”

“So what should I tell her?”

“Tell her no.” Weird, right? Emy telling Lindsey to ask me out for her? I mean Emy was confident enough to do it herself, so why would she tell Lindsey?!

“There must be someone you like then.”

“No,” I lied at first.

“No, there must be. I can feel it.”

“It’s not that I like someone but I would prefer someone like, let’s say, Tegan.” Lindsey smiled slyly, and I should have known not to talk more, but my motor-mouth betrayed me again and that was another mistake I do regret till now.

“I see.” She thought for a bit then asked in a hushed voice, “And you told Sandy about that?” After three days, Lindsey was able to tell that Sandy and I were quite close. When she tried to get close to Sandy, the latter did not reciprocate.

By the way, I could not see the intensity of the situation or the fire. I am narrating this now after the knowledge I have of everyone. If I had narrated this when it happened, I suppose the narration would be different. I truly thought Lindsey was a good person. She seemed kind and nice. I truly thought Sandy was a bad person because she hated me being around Lindsey and I thought she was jealous. I didn’t know my people and I’m not saying that one is the angel and the other is the devil; both are snakes in their own way, but there is this tiny yellow snake some people get as a pet and then there is the cobra. So you see the difference, right?

Wrong…you only saw the difference a couple of months ago. You were just like me, fooled by the bigger snake.

“Yes?” I answered Lindsey. “I did.”

“That’s the biggest mistake you’ve done in your entire life,” she reprimanded me.

“Why?”

“Sandy likes her.”

“No, she doesn’t.” And then I paused and remembered when she told me that you were trying to hit on her. I started to analyze all the details in my head that could make her seem to be into you, and somehow all fit my paranoia quite well. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Lindsey shook her head. “She liked Tegan since last year. When Tegan first came, she talked to no one but Sandy. Tegan doesn’t even talk to anyone in here. And three days ago when I had just come back, Sandy told me that Tegan likes her.”

I felt my heart squeezed inside my chest. I felt myself lacking the ability to breathe. _That’s why_ , I told myself. That’s why Tegan was slowly getting closer to me. She wanted to be close to Sandy, she wanted to get to know Sandy’s friends.

“But there is nothing between them, don’t worry. I asked her if Tegan told her that and she said she didn’t but she could feel it by Tegan’s actions.”

I only nodded and pretended that I did not care.

“It’s good for you that she’s leaving.” But it was good for Lindsey, right? It was good for Lindsey her competitor was leaving. Who else was her competitor, though?

It was you, Tegan. You were her competition but you enticed her to the point I became her one and only nemesis.

After what Lindsey had told me, I couldn’t stomach Sandy. I started running away from her. I didn’t like to sit with her. She noticed it.

That day Lindsey told me that Emy liked me and Sandy liked Tegan, I felt like I needed for Tegan to know that I didn’t like Emy back, and I felt that I needed to know whether Tegan liked Sandy. I waited for Tegan to talk to me again but she didn’t. Why did she text me first if she didn’t want to talk to me? I asked myself.

Why, Tegan? Why did you text me first? Why did you make the move? Go ahead and say it was just you being nice but I know too well that’s your way of flirting. You told me.

That day I tried to get her attention (excuse me but sometimes it’s easier to refer to you in the third person). Apparently, the only person who was so focused on me was Emy. She was extra hyper that day, extra nice that it almost suffocated me. And then it happened. Emy kept on joking and talking to me and you passed by. You stopped. You looked at us and then you walked away. I had to do something. I had to make it clear that Emy and I weren’t a thing because everybody in school thought we were. I was waiting for Lindsey to tell Emy to stop trying with me, and I disrespected Emy for not talking to me about it. It showed what a coward she seemed.

So I ran away from Emy groaning and mumbling words of irritation. I made exactly the same angry gestures of that day you texted me. I passed by and I groaned in anger. You stopped so I stopped and looked back at you.

“Wow, chill. What’s up?” Tegan asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just angry at everything and everyone.”

“Nothing’s worth it, trust me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said and you smiled.

“Just relax.” You were so alluring. You looked so beautiful that day. You winked and walked away. But I wanted to talk, Tegan. It was obvious and you knew it, yet you wanted to play your game; therefore, I played your game.

I sent you a message on Facebook later that day. I prepared an entire conversation in my head and texted you in order to get to talk to you. I wanted to be yours badly and I decided to make the move that time. I always waited for other people to make the move but I had to make it that time. I forgot about the words at the beginning of the school year. I forgot that you had said you did not want to date anyone. I forgot about my anger and my promises that day. I didn’t get why I became so insistent to get your attention and make you mine.

_S: -I’m sorry you had to see another episode of my anger today. Somehow it always comes out in your face._

Tegan texted right away.

_T: -You call that anger? I suppose that’s how kittens get angry._

I didn’t know what to say. I blushed. I giggled. I bit my lower lip and rested on my mattress.

_S: -Well, kittens or humans, I was angry and I snapped at you when it wasn’t your fault._

_T: -I told you, nothing’s worth it._

_S: -Telling someone to leave you the hell alone and they don’t budge is worth it to me._

_T: -What do you mean?_

_S: -Emy._

_T: -Ah!_

I wanted to mention Emy on purpose. I had to know what your thoughts were and what everybody thought. I wanted to know about you and Sandy.

_S: -So you’ve heard?_

_T: -Everybody did!_

_S: -What? What did you hear?_

_T: -You two going out together._

_S: -NO! We’re not together. Who said that?_

_T: -Honestly, I’m not sure but it’s what the teachers talk about._

_S: -Did she say something? Did she talk about it?_

_T: -Not to me. I never heard her talking about it to anyone, too. So I don’t know._

_S: -That’s insane. We’re not together. She didn’t even ask me out._

_-I know she likes me but I made it clear that I don’t like her back!_

_T: -Why do you care?_

_S: -I care about my reputation._

_T: -People talk, Sara. Especially about someone pretty like you. Especially when they don’t know anything about you._

I fangirled like a teenager when you called me pretty. I read it over and over again. I forgot to respond.

_T: -I know that it’s hard not to care at times, trust me, but it’s the best. I’ve been in situations like these so do you want my advice?_

Yes! I wanted your advice. I wanted to talk more. I wanted to hear you out. I wanted everything.

_S: -Sure. You seem quite wise._

I didn’t know why I said that. I didn’t know you, Tegan. But I wanted you so badly and it was obvious. You liked that. You took advantage of that.

_T: -For someone who still can’t tell the size of her shoes and bras, I’d say I’m the opposite of wise._

I laughed as well. I imagined you in the lingerie department confused and awkward, staring at the cups of a black bra with utter puzzlment, not knowing which one would fit you.

_S: -Well, in some matters you are ;)_

_T: -Okay, so listen._

_-Drama is always present in work, especially when you engage with the colleagues._

_S: -Right._

_T: -Someone likes someone, someone doesn’t like them back, the first someone causes some drama…blah, blah, blah._

_-I’ve been in this situation._

_S: -How?_

_T: -Well, two times in fact!_

S: -Is it rude to ask? :D

_T: -Ha! No. I was just gonna tell you!_

_S: -Good! Otherwise you would kill the cat._

_T: -Funny and charming!_

_S: -Thanks. Now tell._

_T: -So the first time I went out with someone, we didn’t really get along. There was just no chemistry. She asked me out again, I told her that we could just be friends. She kinda took it the wrong way. She got upset and started threatening me with some pictures and fake conversations. She literally photoshopped my face on naked women._

_S: -What the fuck?_

What the fuck, right? Why would someone do that because they got rejected, Tegan? People are that obsessed? People are that lonely? People are that in love with you? I mean it was just one day, right? It wasn’t even sex, right? It wasn’t even words of love you have denied. It wasn’t even family dinners and dates, Tegan. So why would she do that? I don’t know. I still don’t know.

_T: -I know! We did talk for about a month before that date. She’s a teacher in the other section. I’m not gonna mention her name, so don’t try._

_S: -I don’t think I wanna know her name. I mean someone can be that psychotic?!_

_T: -Exactly! I told her I didn’t care; she could do whatever she wanted! I don’t think she did anything. I still didn’t hear anything._

_S: -People would have talked about it!_

_T: -Yeah. The other girl was a bit similar to your situation. She asked me out so I told her from the start that I was not ready to date. I didn’t want to be with anyone so we’d go out as friends only._

_S: -Yeah?_

_T: -She was okay with it at first, but then she kept hinting we should be more. She kept insisting. I couldn’t do it, so she just stopped texting one day._

I connected it to the rumors that day. I did connect it but I looked past it because you were already pulling me into whatever witchcraft you were practicing that day.

_S: -That sucks really. People always ask for more even though you make it clear to them that you don’t want to give them more._

But what if you did give them more, Tegan? What if you did and then you pretended you didn’t? Those girls you talked about faced the same fate I did, didn’t they? You did the same thing to them. You gave them the same promises. You took them home at night. You kissed them so well they were feathers in your arms. You touched them and licked them and fucked them and worshipped their bodies like you did to mine, right? Answer me, Tegan.

Or was it just me?

_T: -Exactly, so don’t ever give them a chance to hold anything against you. So, my advice is to ignore her. Just ignore her. Don’t give her a chance at all. Let people say what they will! People are gonna talk anyway so pretend like you don’t care because the more you care, the more people are gonna talk. The more you care the bigger the problem will get._

_S: -See, I told you that you were wise!_

_T: -Haha, thank you!_

I mean, after that talk I assumed we were instantly friends. We could talk. I also assumed you’d text me at times, maybe. We did talk in school, though. It was the next day. Exactly the next day. We sat together in order to prepare some Christmas decoration for the school because on Friday there was a small Christmas-themed show in the theater.

We talked about almost everything. Tegan told me that she has a sister and that her parents lived in Calgary; however she got kicked out of their house at eighteen when she came out. She had to work and study because they wouldn’t pay for her education. She stayed at her sister’s place until she was able to rent an apartment for herself. She also told me that the reason she’s living in the US right now was her idea of getting away from her past life. It’s only been a year and a half for her in Boston. I also learned that Tegan was 30 years old. I honestly thought she was younger than me. She didn’t look a day over 25.

When I spoke about my dream of having a PhD degree and teaching at universities, Tegan scoffed. She said that degrees don’t make of people scholars, it’s their knowledge that does it and that degrees don’t mean a thing to her; she was not aspiring to get anything other than her bachelor’s.

Do you remember, Tegan? How funny, right? What a lie. One of many.

And what do you always say? _‘I never lied to you, Sara.’_

Tegan was a civil engineer. I was shocked to know that she loved her major so much and that she had graduated with honors.

“So why are you working here?” I asked.

“I love teaching. I can’t see myself anywhere other than in academics.”

“But, like, you’re an engineer; you could be making lots of money right now.” You laughed, Tegan. You laughed so softly and so sweetly and looked at me with stars in your eyes that every person passing by kept staring, and one of them was Emy. I felt guilty and proud.

“Well, I do work on some projects but I like teaching more. Of course teaching Physics is easier for me than biology because that’s not my major but I’m obsessed with science so I read a lot.”

“Sara,” somebody called; it almost felt like somebody was trying to wake me up from a deep sleep, pulling the dream out of my eyes. I looked back and I saw Lindsey in a red shirt.

“What?” Lindsey winked and walked away. How embarrassing for me was that. Why was she making it obvious? Do you know why, Tegan? “Lindsey is weird sometimes.”

“I noticed. She’s kinda too hyper?”

“Yeah.”

And then out of the blue you asked me about my salary. Who the fuck does that? I was shocked that I didn’t answer and then you asked if it was a bad question so then I told you about my salary and you nodded. I was respectful enough not to ask you about yours and I still don’t know yours. The number you said is a lie, Tegan. I know it is. I did not care about money or your salary or mine so why the hell you asked? Why did you care how much money I made? You were afraid I made more money than you?

After our conversation that day, Lindsey came up to me with a cunning smile asking about what we had talked about. I told her about our conversation in details. I was happy, I was too happy to shut my mouth.

Sandy came up to me at the end of the day.

“I know you don’t trust me but one day you’re gonna remember this moment when I’m standing here telling you not to trust Lindsey.”

She walked away immediately. I followed her. I didn’t know why I followed her but I felt guilty that I completely deserted her based on what Lindsey had said about her liking Tegan.

“What are you talking about?”

“I can see it, Sara. She’s doing to you what she did to me. She gets you inside her circle, steals information for her own purpose, and then stabs you in the back. Lindsey’s sick. There’s always drama when she’s around. She wants to know everything, she wants to be involved in everything, she wants everything to be about her. It’s just something she can’t handle.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait.” Sandy sounded like someone jealous and hurt at the same time and I was not sure how to respond to her, but I tried my best not to increase the drama. “I don’t trust anyone if that’s what you’re trying to know. I think I’m old enough to know who to be around and what to say around them. I think I can take care of myself. Just because we talked for three days straight does not mean we’re best buddies right now. I just got to know her a little bit and she got to know me. She told me about Emy liking me and I told her I don’t like her back. That’s it. You don’t have to be dramatic about it.”

“I’m not dramatic about it. I’m just warning you because I actually care about you and consider you a good friend.”

If I was her good friend why did she do that then? Why did she not put my name in our play? I sound childish still clinging into that, right? I’ll tell you the answer, Tegan. Rachel made her do that. Rachel insisted my name not to be added in the play. So I should have believed Sandy, right? Well, I couldn’t.

Actually, before leaving I spotted her talking to you, Tegan. I was always afraid you’d hear about the times we made out in my room. I don’t know why it scared me, but I was afraid of it. I also feared you’d know about me and Stacy then judge me. I was always afraid of something.

The next day I said hi to you and you ignored me. I said hi again and you looked at me as if I was somebody you never talked to. You were in a hurry. You said hi back and told me you had to go. I started crying alone in one empty classroom. Lindsey caught me crying.

“Do you think maybe something happened? Maybe she felt like she was getting too close?”

“I don’t know.” I sniffled like an idiot. “Maybe I just don’t deserve to be liked by anyone I like.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It just felt so real.”

“I know how that feels.”

“I thought she was starting to like being around me, at least to be a friend.”

“It’s not you. Come on. Emy likes you. Everyone likes you. But Tegan’s kinda weird. Everybody knows that. She’s always with her own self, doesn’t like to get close to people.”

“Or maybe someone has said something bad about me to her.”

Lindsey panicked because she thought I meant her. She didn’t say anything.

“I saw Sandy talking to her yesterday after school. I mean, I don’t know, but she’s been upset with me lately.”

“Then it’s probably her.” Lindsey felt so sure about her conclusion. “You told her some shit about your life, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” I sighed, wiping my eyes. “There you go, my friend. She probably told Tegan because she likes her.”

You know, writing this makes me cringe and hate myself. How was I so stupid to trust and fall for Lindsey’s words? They always tell you not to trust anyone but you really don’t get it until you’re put into this situation.

I spent that entire day wondering what Sandy might have told her. I tried my best. I even went to talk to Sandy, just to make her feel that I’m not mad at her because of the argument we had the previous day. I wanted to know what she might have said to Tegan.

Of course I wasn’t able to know.

The next day was the last day before winter break. Sandy had baked a delicious cake and gave me a big piece to eat with her. Then you passed by and smiled at us.

“She likes you by the way,” Sandy told me. I almost freaked out.

“What? How do you know?”

“You’re the only person she actually talked to for an entire hour in here.”

So Sandy was keeping records, too. Everyone was keeping records.

“Did she say something about me?” I asked her, trying to know what they talked about behind my back.

“Not at all,” Sandy said. “She’s actually pretty secretive.”

Then Tegan passed by again with a pile of papers in her hands. “I got them for you like you requested yesterday,” she told Sandy. “All corrected, all marked.”

“Thank you! You saved my life.” Sandy took the papers from her hands and offered to give her a piece of cake.

 “Well,” Tegan hesitated, staring at the cake with longing eyes. “I’m on a diet, but sure.”

“You…on a diet?” My reaction was embarrassing but it made her laugh.

It made you laugh. Your cheeks turned red.

“Wanna stay in shape. Get some muscles. You know…”

Tegan didn’t seem like somebody who gave a fuck about their weight or body image, but she was obsessed. She went to the gym every day, she ate quite moderately, she barely ate any sweets, she didn’t smoke; she hated smoking in fact and was totally against it, she slept and woke up early.

“So, umm, what are you guys gonna do during the holidays?” she asked. It was strange.

The day before she ignored me and then she showed some interest? Or was it because Sandy was around?

No, it’s because she wanted to play hard to get. She wanted the games, isn’t that right, Tegan? You loved the games.

“I’m definitely going to stay with my mother and try to keep her sober. Fun, right?”

Tegan laughed. So she knew about Sandy’s situation.

“What about you, Sara?” she asked, smiling.

“I actually live a street away from my parents so same old routine. I’ll visit them and go out with my friends and just, you know, chill.”

She nodded, chewing her cake quietly. “I’m gonna visit my sister in Calgary, but uh, after Christmas.”

“Why?” Sandy asked. Sandy didn’t know. But I knew why. I knew because you told me when we talked. Because your sister was going to spend it with your parents on Christmas and you’re not invited, so after Christmas you were going to visit your sister for a week.

“Well, you know, I have some stuff to do first before I can travel.” Sandy only nodded while you kept staring at me nervously.

Then I realized two things that day. I realized it was okay to talk to you and you were quite nervous and timid unlike what you showed. And I realized that Sandy didn’t tell you anything about me. She only asked for some science papers.

 

  

 

 


	5. Chapter V - Not A Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: mentions of drugs and alcohol

Yes, I’m crying. I’m crying tears I have never shed; they’re barely there because you don’t mean much to me. So they are tears that I have never shed because they’re out of shock and not because I actually miss you and miss what you have done to me. I’m crying because I feel sorry for myself and I feel stupid. I’m crying because I can’t help but hate that girl that I once was, the girl who clung and fell too hard or so she thought. I’m crying because of the picture I just saw of you and her on a date and it brings me back to that day you were too timid I’d consider it a date, yet you made sure to make me feel and think that it was. I’m crying because how can I forget all the words you said easily and how can I comprehend that someone can be such a liar? I’m crying because I feel like I’m not worthy anymore. What do I lack that she has, Tegan? I wish I can ask you and talk to you about it, but I know it will make you happy. Since it will make you happy, I removed you from Snapchat, finally. I can’t bear to see you with her anymore. Facebook off, Snapchat off, only Instagram left. Sadly I have to see you and talk to you at work, but at least at work I’m distracted.

But let me get back to that day. It was a good day. I finally started my winter break after a long semester. At night I was at my friend’s. We ordered junk food and watched a movie. I was dying to talk to you, Tegan. I was on the phone all the time asking why you haven’t talked to me.

“Should I talk to her?” I asked my friends.

“Who talked last?”

“Me,” I told them.

“Then no. Let her talk to you.”

But I just wanted to talk. Maybe you were too shy. Maybe you didn’t want to bother me. You were online on Facebook all the time. I just wanted to click on your name in order to talk.

I wish I listened to my friends.

But of course, one mistake drags me to the other if I don’t stop it immediately.

I thought it was a sign. I saw a post with a quote from Shakespeare. It said:

_“A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.”_

I took a screenshot and sent it to you.

_S: Reminded me of you Ms. I’m-Not-Wise._

You answered right away.  And then we started talking, Tegan. Do you remember?

Tegan talked to me about how much she loved Shakespeare and how much she had a passion for literature. We talked about the holidays and how excited we both were to get some time off. Then she sent me a photo of herself when she was fourteen, acting a scene from _The Merchant of Venice_ in her school play.

It was an adorable picture, Tegan. I know I made fun of you but it was a joke. It was a picture of you looking innocent, way before the lies and the deceit, way before you took an oath to hurt every woman that stepped your way, or maybe that was only me.

“Who are you talking to?” one of my friends asked.

“Tegan,” I responded with heat clouding up my face and embarrassment embodying me.

“Oh my God, you did not.”

“I just sent her a screenshot of something and…yeah.” I remember my friends giving me the dirty glances and those cunning smirks. I remember feeling like I’m sixteen again.

We started talking about religious beliefs, which, till now, I’m not sure what yours are. You said you’re not religious and you’re a spiritual. The same as me. However, I noticed with time that you tend to be quite religious sometimes and even hateful towards yourself. I thought maybe it’s because of what your parents had put you through since you kept on fluctuating between God said this is going to put us in hell and who’s God anyway? You changed your mind based on the mood that day. You changed your mind based on the way you wanted to treat me that day.

But religion was not some important factor in that relationship or whatever you would like to call it since your majesty did not like to label it. It was this horrendous issue of ‘no labeling’ that wrecked and ruined everything. Somehow this was connected to some beliefs that I could never get about soulmates not having to have a title for their relationship; they’re like fire and water; they’re like the sun and the moon, they can never meet or be together because once the energy is sent, the sun will have to disappear. Honestly, I don’t understand any of this bullshit and, yes, it is bullshit to me because it never made sense. I know you used those excuses to fuck me up real good, Tegan. Everybody told me that but I didn’t listen, even though deep down I knew it.

We started to talk about love and that’s when my stupid lack of self-esteem decided to make an appearance to add some spices to my shit personality. I don’t even remember the words exactly, but I remember very well you asking me what my friends and I were talking about and why I was ditching them to talk to you.

I answered that they were talking about their boyfriends and that it did not interest me.

_T: Ha! So you’re just not interested in boyfriends or you’re not interested in relationships in general?_

_S: Somebody wants to know. ;)_

_T: It’s just a question!_

Of course, I’m stupid. Tegan knew how to kick me back where she picked me up from.

_S: I’m not interested in the way they date. All their boyfriends are fucked up scheming assholes._

_T: Ouch._

_S: Did I offend you or something?_

_T: Last time I checked I still identified as a ‘girlfriend,’ so no._

_S: God, because I had some doubts for a quick minute._

_T: So what about your own girlfriend?_

You wanted to know, yet if I confronted you about it you’d make sure that it’s just some ordinary conversation that you did not care about that much, but I know too well you wanted to know. But wait a minute, you already knew, right? You already knew because I was the one who had a ‘crush’ on you and you heard about it, so how come you wanted to ask?

In order to get the self-pity out of me because you knew how to study one’s actions and words too well, that’s the answer:

_S: I don’t have any._

_T: Whoa. A beautiful woman like you is single?_

And you were flirting, too. Remember, Tegan?

_S: Thank you!_

_-I’m not that lucky in that department._

_T: How come?_

_S: Let’s just say whoever I want does not want me back._

I was an idiot for saying that. I don’t know why my mind was painting this picture of you feeling bad that you haven’t declared your feelings yet and then you’ll tell me. I was stupid enough to think you’re princess charming coming to sweep me off my feet. Even 28 year old lesbians can think that sometimes.

_T: Whoever does not want you back must be blind, Sara._

And you were making me sit on the edge of my seat with your sweet words, Tegan. Too bad they were just bunch of lies.

_S: What about you?_

_T: What about me?_

_S: You know what I mean ;)_

_T: I’m single!_

_S: How come?_

_T: Well, I had a serious long relationship with this woman but things got a little bit rocky and we ended it. It was a long time ago. Since then I haven’t been in the right mindset to date._

_S: Must be heartbreaking._

_T: I’d say the same to you._

_S: Well, yeah. I had a thing with this woman as well and it did not work as well._

_T: Was it heartbreaking?_

_S: Yes._

_T: I’m sorry about that._

_S: I’m sorry about your situation, too._

And that’s where we ended our chat for that day.

I didn’t sleep that night. I was excited. I daydreamed about it all night long.

We talked more and more every day but never called each other. We did not even know each other’s numbers. Actually, I knew her number. Well, we had this group on Whatsapp for work. I clicked on the participants list and I saw you right there, your picture in a white suit behind some engineering-related poster. I did not save the number, don’t you worry about that.

We talked about my obsession with history and Tegan’s obsession with philosophy. We talked about my obsession with coffee and your obsession with a healthy diet. You made fun of me for waking up late and I made fun of you for waking up at sunrise to watch it.

Tegan made sure to watch the sunset and sunrise every day.

“Those are the most beautiful things in nature. Beauty starts there and I seek beauty,” she said. I didn’t pay attention. I didn’t understand. I still don’t.

And that’s when I started to imagine her while I touched myself late at night. I imagined her muscular arms on each side of my naked body as her chest brushed against mine, her hips descended lower with each thrust and her face was inches close to mine, her breath leaving her rounded lips and her eyes were darkened with lust as she fucked me hard and slow. I saw it all in my head while I rubbed my clit and fucked my cunt, imagining my two fingers as the phallus attached to her hips. It was funny to me, because I haven’t ever tried something like that in me. But I imagined it, and it felt nice.

I wondered if she imagined fucking my cunt as well.

We didn’t talk for two days and, honestly, I was busy getting ready for Christmas. I bought gifts for my mother and father and grandmother. I made cookies with my mother, too.

I talked to Lindsey as well. I told her about everything. She was excited about it, too.

“You guys look so good together. I swear, when I had to talk to her about the science stuff for the next semester, I realized how perfect you guys would be together,” Lindsey lied.

“Seriously? She’s too…I don’t know. Like serious. Too organized.”

“I know. That’s why you guys fit. You even each other out.”

I wanted you to talk, Tegan. I wondered why you didn’t. I was having enough with you not talking and me having to talk first. We had talked about it before.  Tegan told me that she liked to talk to me but thought that it was also nice for me to start the conversation and she liked when I did it.

Things were going way too fast.

I decided to talk to you.

_S: Hey._

_T: I swear to God, I just clicked on your name to talk to you._

I smiled to myself like an idiot.

_S: Liar._

_T: I swear I’m not._

Tegan sent a picture of a book and a cup of coffee.

_T: I tried coffee for the first time, Sara._

_S: You’re kidding._

_T: I’m not. I actually like it._

_S: Seriously?_

_T: Yes, I’m in this place called ‘Lens’ reading my book and I thought why not try this thing called coffee that Sara loves so much!_

_S: I hope you don’t regret it!_

_T: Oh, I don’t. I mean it’s a bit bitter but I think I can get used to it._

_S: You should seriously try my favorite coffeehouse. It’s called Diana’s Heart. They have the best coffee in town._

_T: Oh really!_

_S: Yes, you should try it._

_T: Why not invite me for coffee there one day? ;)_

It took me a moment to respond because I was in a place of confusion. Are you asking me out? I asked myself.

No, she was not. She was trying to get asked out by me. It’s part of the game, you see. She knew too well what she was doing. She took it step by step. She dropped hints and clues but always made sure to make me take the step she wanted. I made the moves she wanted to make just so she could blame it on me when the right time came, and it did come.

_S: Wanna go out for coffee with me, Tegan?_

_T: Sure, why not?_

_S: Great. Tuesday sounds okay?_

_T: It sounds perfect._

_S: Tuesday at 5. Does that sound good?_

_T: It sounds just right._

I waited patiently for Tuesday. My stomach cramped and my heart roared inside my chest. I had to tell someone about it. I told my mum about it.

“You really like this woman, don’t you?”

“There’s nothing going on between us. It’s just a coffee hangout.”

“But you like her.” Mum smiled.

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“Oh, Sara. It’s been so long since I heard you admitting your interest in someone. I honestly thought you’re a celibate or something.

“Asexual?”

“Yeah?”

I chuckled. “No. I just don’t get asked out much. I mean, maybe there is something in me. I’m not attractive, I guess.” My mother didn’t know about my affair with Stacy. She had sensed there was something going on with someone but I never told her, which means my mother actually thought I’ve been single since my early college days.

And to think of it, I never had a serious relationship. Before Stacy, I dated a woman called Katina for awhile, but it was not serious. In high school I dated around. Stacy was the most serious relationship I’ve had.

“Don’t say that,” mother told me. “You’re perfect, Sara.”

Do you hear that, Tegan? My mother thinks I’m perfect. All mothers think their daughters are perfect. Little does she know that I am considered a liability!

I told Lindsey about it. Another big mistake that I shouldn’t have made.

Lindsey asked to go out on Monday. We went out for lunch and that’s when she revealed her past relationships and her affair with some male teacher at school. She got divorced because her husband cheated and accused her of cheating with that guy, even though, according to her, she did not. I mean, she was in another state, so why would she lie about it? I told her about my affair with Stacy. Another mistake.

Tuesday came and I did all my best to remain calm. We talked in the morning. Tegan reminded me that it was the day of the…date, or not.

_T: Remember the coffee plans?_

_S: Of course I do!_

_T: Thought you’d pretend to forget._

_S: Now what kind of a gentlewoman would I be if I forgot? I offered, I stand by my offer._

_T: Ha! Can’t wait._

_S: Me, too._

Right before I left my house to meet you at Diana’s Heart, you called and said, “Look, umm, uh, if you want to tell Sandy, you can do that. You know, so it wouldn’t appear as a date. Oh, and dress casual, too.”

That was a strong sign that I neglected even though those words made me fume.

I answered, “Don’t worry, it’s not a date!”

You sensed my anger but you didn’t say much.

Much to my surprise, Tegan appeared in a black beanie, black hoodie and dark jeans. So casual compared to the formal work attire. That’s how much you didn’t want it to be a date, Tegan?

We arrived at the same time. The coffeehouse is only few blocks away from my place so I walked to it. When I arrived, I watched Tegan get out of the cab. I was surprised to know that she didn’t have a car. We were both nervous. Tegan looked different and sounded different. My hands were shaky. It felt like I was doing something wrong, I didn’t know why, but now I do.

“What do you wanna get?”

“Coffee,” Tegan said confidently with a gummy smile that I had never seen on her.

I giggled. “What kind?”

“Umm, I don’t know?” She was clueless when it came to coffee. She seemed overwhelmed looking at the many kinds.

“Why don’t I order for you the same one as mine?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Two medium Sumatra, please.”

I took out my wallet to pay and Tegan took out hers.

“We had an agreement,” I said.

“Let me pay,” she said.

“No,” I said. “I promised.” I paid and we both went upstairs to find a place. Everyone was smoking, Tegan hated it. It was a cozy place and it made Tegan uncomfortable, I could tell.

“You have a book with you?” she asked when I put my American History book on the table next to my phone and wallet.

“Yeah.” I was afraid you’d not show up, Tegan. I was afraid I’d be stood up. “I carry a book with me everywhere.”

Tegan took the book and inspected. She looked down at the history of America. At the wars before New York was called New York (it was called New Amsterdam before the Second Anglo-Dutch War in 1665) and at the highlighted lines I had, my notes, my scribbles. She was in awe.

“You really like history so much!”

“Yes.” I took my first sip of my coffee and it reminded her to do the same.

Her face scrunched up in disgust and it was so charming to watch her nose flutter and her eyes close for a second to take the bitter coffee in.

“That bad?”

“It’s so bitter, oh my God.”

I laughed at her and took another sip. “You’ll get used to it.”

We talked so much that day. Tegan was raw and emotional which made my eyes betray me and my tears fall.

She told me about her old lover but she did not say much.

“We stayed together for four years. When I moved here things got really…bad.” I saw the tears in her eyes. “She asked for something more. She wanted marriage. She proposed but I couldn’t. I said no. I didn’t even have money to pay my own rent.”

“What about her?”

“She had nothing. I was not ready.” She wiped a single tear that fell and turned her face away. How did we get this far in our conversation? Oh, right, we played truth or dare. Remember, Tegan? That was your way of getting information from me and lying about your own information. I asked about your past relationship when it was my turn. I had to know, yet it still remained a mystery.

“What’s her name?”

It took you a moment to respond. It’s as if you were thinking of a name.

“Rhea.”

“Do you still love her?”

You nodded and I could see the guilt in your eyes and I know you saw the disappointment in mine.

“That’s why I just…I think that I can’t ever be with anyone else. I try but I can’t. I know I will never be in a serious relationship or get married. I know that. If it’s not her, it’s no one but…”

You shook your head and smiled while I was recoiling inside my self-loathing thoughts.

“You still talk to her?”

“She disappeared. I know nothing about her. She just vanished.” Tegan cleared her throat. “I think it’s your turn.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about your past relationship.”

“I didn’t pick truth or dare.”

“You never pick dare, you’re a pussy.” I gasped hearing her curse casually like that. It didn’t seem that she had a filthy mouth. It made her laugh.

“I’m not.”

“Well, then I dare you to go sit with that girl and tell her she looks so fucking hot.” My eyes widened at the sudden burst of confidence that I saw in you. I shook my head. “Of course. See, a pussy.”

“Shut up.”

Tegan laughed. “I swear I’d do it. I’d go to her and tell her how hot she is. By the end of the day, she’d be in bed with me.” She winked.

I was about to pee my pants by then because my nerves were reaching new places inside my system.

“Come on, tell me about you. Your past. Your ex.” She raised one eyebrow at me, her eyes twinkled.

It was only fair to tell her about Stacy. It made her stare at me in wonder. Nobody would believe goody two shoes Sara would have been involved in such a relationship.

“That woman has destroyed you, hasn’t she?” The way you said that, Tegan, felt so right. As if you could see the sadness and murkiness inside my eyes, as if you could imagine all the harsh nights I suffered because of her. As if you could see the tears and hear the cries, as if you were there.

“She wanted me and then she didn’t. She wanted and then she couldn’t. It was a game. And then she came to me out of the blue saying she’s pregnant and that she couldn’t do that anymore. But we worked it out at the end. We’re friends. Not close of course, but we made sure not to hate each other. She’s a good person.”

“Oh, please. A good person wouldn’t be this cunning just to get you to fuck them for fun and then retreat when things get too serious.”

It’s ironic, right? How ironic were your words, Tegan! Guess that’s when you realized I was a toy that people enjoyed playing with, right? Or maybe you did since ever and you were just trying to prove you’re one of the good ones?

“Well, it’s not like I didn’t allow it.” I shrugged.

“You still love her?” Tegan asked the same question.

“I don’t,” I lied, because deep down I’ll always have a tender spot for Stacy. Don’t think you’re the only one I loved passionately; trust me you’re not, Tegan.

And just so you know, I’m back speaking with her again right now.

But that’s not why I’m writing this, so let’s get back to your story.

Then we moved into the dark past that you had when you were in high school. You were not ashamed to reveal how bad you were and I should have taken this as a sign.

“I drank too much. I did lots of drugs. I…I played with a lot of hearts. I fooled many girls. At university I slept with like three each day. I was known for my bad reputation. I promised people and left them. I hurt many people. I’m not proud of that.”

“What changed you?”

“I was so out of it. I didn’t know what the point of living was. I spent my days eating and drinking and sleeping and fucking around and then one day I just saw my best friend die right in front of my eyes.”

I remained silent. I didn’t know what to say.

“He OD’d.”

“Oh.” She nodded.

“Then I started thinking: what am I living for? What’s my purpose in life? Why do I do that?” I saw the tears again but this time they didn’t fall. “Then I got closer to religion, I guess. Well, I’m a spiritual, not quite religious. I can’t even, you know, go to church.”

“I go to a gay-okay church with my parents.”

“I didn’t have that back home.”

I didn’t notice that it was eight already and that you had to go to the gym but you skipped it and I had to meet up with my father but I forgot about it. I didn’t notice how dark it had gotten outside and how cold I felt. I hadn’t noticed that people were beginning to leave the place and that we were staring into each other’s eyes like fire blazing amidst the darkness.

“Then I met her and she just changed me. She introduced me to this healthy lifestyle I’m in, to loving nature, loving myself, to trying to be a good person.”

I felt my lips quiver because I realized just then that I really did like you and that you did not reciprocate.

“Are you okay?” I nodded. “You’re not.” My tears fell from my eyes. Why? Why did I cry? “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” I said in a whisper. “I just…I wanna go home.”

“Did I say something that bothered you?” I shook my head. “Give me your hand. Please, it’ll make you feel better, trust me. Don’t go home like that.”

She was sweet and she was nice. I was an idiot.

She took my hand, rubbed, and squeezed. “So soft,” she murmured. “Can I hug you?”

“Stop,” I whispered, taking my hand away. “You don’t get it?” I hated myself right then because I was revealing what I should have never revealed, and if there is something I regret more than anything, it is this moment when I revealed my feelings because I know for a fact, it was what you were waiting to hear in order to proceed with you game.

“Get what?” Tegan sat back, looking confused and puzzled.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Wait…uh, Sara, do you like me?” I looked up in surprise because that wasn’t supposed to be _known._

“What does it matter if I do?”

“Oh, God. It matters of course.”

“Look, it’s not gonna change anything if I like you.”

“It’s going to change everything.”

I remember taking a deep breath before telling you that I liked you. You sat back with shock and astonishment and then you said, “Even after everything I told you? After telling you that I fucked with people’s hearts?”

That was a warning in disguise, but I nodded.

“I like you, too,” she said and sat back, contemplating and biting at the jewelry beneath her lips.

It sounded like a miracle but I knew miracles didn’t exist. “But I can’t be with you. I mean, I just…I told you.”

“I know.” I cried and cried and cried.

“I’m sorry. I’d like to be around you. I’d like to get to know you.” She looked at my cup of coffee and took it, then took a sip right from the stain of my lip gloss. “There, see? I’m a clean freak, but I like you so much I’d want to feel your lips on mine.” I shook and I gasped.

Then Tegan grabbed the book I had and opened the first page. She took a pen from her duffle bag and wrote:

_“May happiness always find you, may love always surround you, I’ll never forget the way you made my heart beat as if it is the first time, so please, don’t forget me.”_ And then she wrote the date, time, and her name.

“I don’t care if you don’t wanna see me again, but don’t forget me and don’t forget that I do have feelings for you,” she said as I got up, ready to leave.

She took my hand and held it. She squeezed before I let go. She kissed my knuckles and looked into my eyes. Hers shone as she stared for long seconds. I thought she was going to kiss me because her light irises kept shifting back and forth from my lips to my eyes.

She didn’t kiss me.

We parted as I walked back to my street and she walked away, said she needed to walk and clear her head.

Tegan already knew I had feelings for her since that day we were rating the teachers, but that night she made sure. The bait was successfully taken.

I reached home and collapsed on my bed that night, the same position I’m in right now.

I just saw the picture, Tegan; you kissing her, proudly declaring she’s your girlfriend? If so, then why did you send me _‘I miss you’_ last week? Why do you try to get close to me again, Tegan?

I’m crying heavily not because I got toyed with, but because I allowed it, I forgave it, I saw the signs and did not push them away. God, you didn’t even want people to know we’re friends, but you’re bragging about this woman. And who is she? I remember you too well saying you’d never be with anyone but Rhea, is that her? Why can’t I see the name on Instagram? Is that even her real name? She’s so beautiful. She looks so perfect.

I guess I’ll have to continue this without directing it to you. I guess I’ll have to third-person you the way you did to me. That’s better, right?

I really hate you, Tegan.


	6. Chapter VI - The Beginning of Nothing

My head is clear now, it’s much clearer than before. Taking this time off from documenting my thoughts has helped me see better, has helped me recover. However, nothing has changed. Tegan is still the person that destroyed me and I pay the price each day with every antidepressant pill I swallow to numb the thoughts. Seeing her at work is slowly taking away the rest of my sanity, interacting with her is increasing my anxiety. And, God, I am so lonely. I have no one but my dark thoughts to blanket me at nights.

But let’s get back to my story, to Tegan’s story. That day after the… _not date_ was one of the worst days I’ve had since a long time ago. I stayed in bed all morning, tears in my eyes. I did not pick up the calls from my mum nor my dad until Tegan called in the afternoon. I panicked as I saw her name on the phone. I knew she wanted to talk about the night before.

I picked up, though. I cleared my throat and said, “Hello.”

“I thought you’d never pick up,” she said in an anguished tone, or that’s how it seemed. “I couldn’t sleep all night.” She paused. “I can’t stop thinking about last night, and about you.”

“And what’s the point, anyway?” I answered bitterly, tears back in my eyes. I have to say, sounding desperate was not good for me at all. I was only proving to her how much of a toy I deserved to be. “It’s not like it’s going to change anything.”

She didn’t answer.

With every shriek of silence, my heart broke a little.

“I want you,” she said out of the blue, voice raspy.

“Eh?”

“I want you.”

“What does that mean?” I played dumb. My stomach cramped.

She chuckled. “You’re a big girl, you know what it means.”

“No,” I said bluntly.

“I know.” She just chuckled again. “I’m just stating it.”

“I don’t even know you to give you that.”

“You’re treating me like a dick owner.”

I laughed. I laughed and wiped my tears.

“I’m just stating that I feel attracted to you, highly attracted to you.” She paused once again as I hummed. “And that I like you.” She took a deep breath. “The more I talk to you, the more I like you.”

By then my hopes increased; I thought that I could change her, that I could make her feel for me. By then I thought I had hope, that maybe one day she’d forget her past lover and start loving me. Boy, was I wrong!

“Well,” I said, not knowing how to continue, “does that even mean anything to you?”

“Why does everything have to mean something? Why can’t we just enjoy the feeling for awhile until we figure things out?” While that was actually true, it was still a getaway from commitment. She wanted to enjoy the feeling as it lasted then leave it once bored. She wanted to hurt me the way she had been hurt.

“Because I can’t,” I answered.

“Why?”

“That’s not the person I am. I don’t like such things. If we like each other, we date…that’s how it is for me.” I sounded more than desperate to her, but I was just trying to be with her.

“That’s how it is for you because you believe in labels; because you’re just like everyone else who can’t be satisfied with what they have unless they label it.”

I didn’t answer her. My tears streamed down my face heavily.

She sighed before continuing, “Sara, people put rules; society puts rules. We follow the rules and we’re fucked. I’m not even sure about my feelings and you’re not sure about yours. I don’t wanna jump and drown. I’m not ready.”

That’s true. She was not ready. I was pushing her.

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “Maybe you’re not sure about your feelings, but I’m sure of mine.”

Why?

Because I don’t feel things for people easily, because I don’t fall easily.

“And that’s just one of us.” She was being reasonable; she was trying to persuade me to see the picture calmly. She was a smart tactician, though. A very smart trickster.

“Yeah,” I said wistfully. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said again in a sterner tone.

“Feel the beauty of affection without having to be tied down, trust me this is a great feeling.” I didn’t believe those words she said, and I still don’t. They’re full of bullshit.

We didn’t talk for three days. I was busy with Christmas shopping, Christmas preparation, and Christmas everything. On Christmas Eve, she called. I was sitting with my parents watching _Home Alone_. Her voice sounded anguished when I picked up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “Merry Christmas, Sara.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“You hate me, don’t you?” she asked. It took me by surprise. Her tone wasn’t full of humor; she sounded serious.

“No,” I instantly responded. “Why are you saying that?”

“You didn’t call,” she answered. “For three days.”

Then I heard it; she was crying. It made me happy. Selfishly, it made me feel good.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” That’s the thing, Tegan; why did you cry every time I was cold? Why did you run away every time I was warm? I didn’t get it. I still don’t. That’s why I took your games for love. “I mean, I thought that if you wanted to talk to me, you’d call.”

“Goddamn it, Sara,” she said, still crying. “You don’t even know what you do to me when you speak to me. Don’t make me fucking say it.”

I tried to calm her down, but her tears increased.

“I’m lonely,” she admitted eventually. “Everyone’s celebrating Christmas with their families and I can’t even go online because I don’t wanna see the pictures my sister will put of her with my mum and dad.”

Maybe she was only crying because she was lonely, maybe her emotions were all mixed up.

Actually, that’s probably the reason why.

I tried to make her feel better and didn’t let her go until she calmed down and we started joking again. It was a nice conversation, I still remember it. We talked about movies and music. We discovered we didn’t really have the same taste of things, yet we still had many things in common, which was a relief to me.

When I hung up, my mum gave me a box of the cookies she and I had baked and asked me to take it to her. “Don’t leave a friend alone on Christmas Eve.” She winked at me. “Go to her place, she’ll appreciate it.”

“Maybe it’s too much.”

“She cried for you,” my mum said.

“Were you listening?”

“Her voice was kind of loud through the speakers.” She bit on her lower lip, guilt making her face go red. “Why don’t you just go and spend time with her? Come on, what are you even doing with old people like your father and me?”

My mum should not have told me to do that. I should have stayed.

“I guess I can text her for her address, but I doubt she’ll let me visit her. She’s a bit…I don’t know, too distant.” My mum hummed, face a bit concerned.

“Well, try.”

I tried. Tegan texted me the address. It was a surprise. I texted her saying I had a small surprise for her. She lived only ten minutes away. Mum offered to drive me. Poor old lady, she was trying too hard to feel that her daughter could love normally like everybody else’s daughters.

“Please invite her to have dinner with us tomorrow. She’ll appreciate it. She needs a family.” I thought it was a bit too soon…and I was right.

As expected, Tegan’s apartment was magnificently neat. Everything was put in place. She opened the door for me with a warm smile on her face. I remember it too well. My heart melted. Her face was fresh and her eyes were a bit reddish in hue due to her tears. Her hair wasn’t curled as she usually wore it; it was a bit shaggy, which made it seem a bit longer than it usually looked. She wore a big purple sleeveless shirt and light blue jeans, cuffed at the bottom. She also wore white sneakers.

“Aren’t you cold?” Stupidly, that was the first thing I asked.

She laughed a little and shook her head. “The apartment is very warm. Get in.”

It was, in fact, very warm. I still felt a bit chilly after taking off my coat, however. I was wearing a white sweater. Tegan loved that sweater.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked, following her to the living room. The box was still in my hands.

“Much better,” she said with a gummy smile as we sat on the off-white couch. I looked around to inspect the cozy atmosphere in the place. Tegan had lots of plants. I compared her place to mine, noting that if she ever visited me, I needed to clean it well and make a few adjustments; which, by the way, I never did because I didn’t care as much when she visited me.

“These are for you.” I gave her the box with shaky hands. “My mum and I baked them.” I smiled bashfully, which made her giggle.

“Oh, Sara. You didn’t have to.” Tegan hated being pitied, but she also loved the attention. It was a complex contradiction that often drifted us apart throughout those months we…did whatever we were doing. “Wow! These are pretty.” She inspected each colorful cookie delicately. “Your mum’s an artist.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “She’s good at cooking and baking.”

“Am I ever gonna taste her food?” Tegan joked, winking at me.

“Actually, yes.” I remember how hot I felt at that particular second. It felt like the room was getting smaller and smaller. “Mum wanted me to invite you to dinner tomorrow night.”

She looked at me, surprised and confounded.

“I told her about you…I told her you live alone. She said to invite you since we’re only three people and Christmas can get boring with only me, mum, and dad this year, so yeah. We’d love some company.”

“Wow, Sara, that’s so kind of you and your mum.” She seemed speechless, taken aback.

I was nice, right? I was too nice and easy to be taken advantage of.

“So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, of course.” But Tegan was nervous, too. I saw a slight tremor in her legs, I know I did. “You just made my day a whole lot better.” She chuckled, looking at the cookies again. “I don’t eat sugary stuff, but this looks so fucking gorgeous.” She picked a tree-shaped one and nibbled on it, humming with closed eyes.

I couldn’t resist her at that moment. Multiple emotions were swirling inside my chest, my stomach was cramping. I didn’t even think of what I did until I got rid of the impulse that pushed me to kiss her on the cheek.

I kissed her on the cheek quickly and suddenly. Her eyes opened in surprise and mine dilated in shock as well. I covered my mouth with my hand.

“I’m so sorry,” I rushed to say. “I don’t know why I did that.” I started to tear up. I was trying to process my emotions. In that moment I realized how badly I had fallen.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” She took my hand in hers, rubbing it softly. “Shh, it’s fine.”

I tried to calm down, breathing in and out. My embarrassment was going to kill me.

“How did that feel?” she asked, a smile on her face.

“What?”

“How did that feel?” she repeated her question. “When you kissed me, how did you feel?”

“I…don’t know?”

“Did it make you feel things?” Her smile grew. By then I got it, I understood it. I took my hand away and shifted in my seat uncomfortably. You sensed it because you said, “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna be pushy, I’m just wondering if you are, you know, attracted to me the same way I am attracted to you.”

“Sexually?” I asked like a dumb kid. She chuckled with a nod. “You are attracted to me sexually?”

“Sara, I’m a human. I’m a woman attracted to women and you’re a woman…with a body…a nice body.” I still remember how her eyes widened as she said the last phrase.

“Stop,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just stating it.” I nodded. “Do you hate me?”

“No,” I said loudly. “Why do you keep asking that?”

“I’m starting to get nervous around you and when I get nervous I blabber and say terrible stuff.” I guess that’s what calmed me down and got me back feeling confident again. Were you lying when you said all that? Do you not remember it? Are you going to deny it?

It was such a nice day. It was a terrific night. She made coffee for me and we talked till it was late and I had to go home. I called an Uber even though my mum offered to drive me back home, but it was pretty late to call her to pick me up. Plus, I knew she was going to interrogate for another hour, which I was not in the mood for. Nothing could ruin my mood that night.

Before she said goodbye to me, Tegan kissed me on the cheek. The left cheek. The one I kissed her on.

I slept well that night. Normally, people who fall in love stay up all night daydreaming. It was the opposite for me; I just slept peacefully without any worries. I know I should have been worried. I should have thought it over. After all, I loved her and she didn’t have any feelings for me.

I woke up next morning earlier than usual. I was ready for the day to start. I woke up to multiple text messages from Tegan. Before opening them, I panicked because I thought she was going to say she couldn’t show up to dinner. However, it was her panicking over what she should wear and what my parents were like.

We talked more in the morning, or flirted. She was sweet and affectionate, which was rare of emotionless Tegan.  

“I can’t wait to see you,” she whispered. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night.” Her tone was husky and flirtatious, too. “I couldn’t sleep thinking about you.”

“I slept like a baby,” I bragged with a giggle. “Like an angel.”

“Ass.” She cackled.

“Hey, don’t curse.”

“You hate it?”

“It’s just…I’m not used to it.”

Tegan hummed. “I’ll try my best not to, but try your best to get used to it because that’s how I am with my loved ones.”

“Loved ones!”

“Mhm.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means whatever you want it to mean.”

“No, Tegan, tell me,” I insisted. “What are we?”

“We’re friends. Very good friends.”

I didn’t respond. I wanted more.

“Friends who like one another and don’t want to get into the whole relationship drama right now.”

Also known as taking advantage of a person who loved you, fooling them till it’s too late.

I still agreed with my silence. I know I shouldn’t have.

I wore a suit that day; I wanted to impress her. I even put some effort doing my hair and makeup, making sure my fringe fell slightly upon my face but didn’t cover my eyes all the way that she couldn’t look at both of them. The eyeliner on the upper lids made them more attractive, lighter in color. Beneath the dark suit I wore a tight white top that I tucked inside my pants to give her a nice idea of every curve I owned.

I was anxious the entire time I helped my mother in the kitchen. I worried my parents would leave a bad impression, or worse…she would leave a bad impression. What if my father told one of his dad jokes or my mother went extra obsessive and crazy? I thought about it until the time came and Tegan was at the door with a bottle of wine in her hands and too much redness blotched on cheeks. I greeted her with a quick awkward hug and introduced her bewildered self to my parents.

The house my parents lived in seemed to fascinate her; she inspected with her eyes and asked a couple of questions. Other than that, she was awfully silent and didn’t seem very comfortable sitting around two old people and their daughter.

Tegan was formally dressed as well. She had a white blazer, black pants and a white shirt that was a little bit sheer. Her hair perfectly curled and her eyes charming. I caught her checking me out several times and I remember checking her out a few times as well.

Over dinner, we had to deal with the pain of small talk. My father asked her about her career and my mother about her future plans. I tried to get in the conversation or change it to make her feel less nervous but it didn’t seem to help as her legs were both shaking underneath the table until I stopped them with a hand. She looked at me and I smiled. I saw the sparkle in her eyes. I know I did.

After dinner, I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me upstairs. She hesitated, looking down at my parents chatting about some Canadian politics. They were too busy with their dialogue to pay attention to us acting like two teenagers. I laughed loudly once I got her in my room. She looked around with an amazed look on her face. She took a sip of the scotch in her hand and inspected the poster of Queen Elizabeth I that I had in my room.

“How did you sleep with her poignant eyes staring at you?”

“She was a guardian angel,” I responded, standing next to her.

“Strange person, Sara!” She looked at me, clearly amused.

“Hey, you’re not so normal yourself.”

“Who said normal is good?” She winked, I still remember it. Her free hand reached to my arm and squeezed. “Oh, I thought I’d sense flesh not muscles.” I remember feeling a strange type of heat climbing up to my face.

“I work out, too.”

“Didn’t seem like it.” She shrugged and took another sip. “Hey, wouldn’t your parents feel strange we’re here in your room all alone?” She looked at my closed door.

“No,” I told her. “I’m too old for this. I just needed to talk to you, apologize about any awkward situation I must have put you through.”

“Nothing’s awkward.” She paused and looked into my eyes, I still recall it. “If anything, this evening turned out lovely.”

“I’m happy about that.” I went to my bed and sat on it. “That was my room before I moved out. I kinda miss it.” She sat next to me. She continued looking at me.

“That’s where Sara Quin slept and read and masturbated,” she said casually with a sly grin.

I gasped and almost choked on my saliva. “Wh…what?”

“Masturbated?” She laughed. “What? It’s normal.”

“I don’t do that,” I denied strongly and right away, which made her raise an eyebrow at me. “I don’t.”

“Sara…we’re not fourteen.” I shrugged. “You’re 28, Sara,” she tried again.

“I just don’t,” I still denied, finding it too hard to admit touching myself to that stranger who I fancied way too much. “And umm…this is…very uncomfortable to me right now.”

“So you’ve been single for the past like how many years?”

“Um…three.”

“Without any sex?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you’re a slut and you sleep with a lot of people to dull your needs?” She smirked.

“I didn’t say that either.”

She took another sip, her deceiving eyes not leaving my unnerved ones. “Well, I do masturbate almost every day and I’m not ashamed to admit it, otherwise I’d be cranky and annoyed all the time.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“That’s impossible and I won’t believe it no matter what.”

“It’s not. I just don’t, you know, feel horny all the time.” I wanted to die at that moment because I lied way too much and we both knew I was lying, but it was fun and I loved looking innocent to her.

“So you want to convince me your underwear isn’t full of fluids at the moment?” That was too far for me to hear when I barely knew her and I hadn’t even kissed her to talk about that. That was the type of pushiness I disliked about Tegan. When she wanted something, she squeezed it out of me without me liking the method she used.

“Too far,” I said gravely and that had put her to a stop.

“I’m…” Her face had grown bright red with shame. “I’m very sorry, I didn’t realize it.”

“I’m not like that, Tegan.” I almost cried, I was starting to connect the dots but I didn’t want to believe what my mind tried to tell me. “I didn’t bring you up here to sleep with you. I didn’t invite you to sleep with you.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” she said loudly and angrily, standing up. “I just like you. I fucking like you, idiot.” She sighed. “I like you…that’s my way of telling you I’m developing feelings for you.”

I remained silent because we both knew that was not the way to tell someone you were developing feelings for them.

“You’re waking up things in me that were dead a long time ago, Sara. I can finally feel alive.” She sat down again. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m a prude.”

“Yeah, and I wanted to tease you.”

“I noticed.”

She looked down at her feet and chuckled. I looked down at her feet, too. I was dying to know what she was thinking. I still want to know what you were thinking with all the pauses you took, Tegan.

“You know,” she mused, “you are so fucking enchanting, Sara.”

I fell for every empty word she said.

She looked up at me again. I looked at her eyes, searching for my future with her. I was too hopeful and too naïve.

“Let me kiss you,” she whispered and I couldn’t even begin to process it because her hands immediately cupped my jaw and she leaned in. I leaned in as well.

She kissed me. It was soft and it was sweet and I realized at that moment that I was pretty much in love. I realized my underwear was full of fluids. I realized she was going to get what she wanted pretty soon, too. I was not wrong!

She kissed me and I kissed her back. We kissed in my room for a few minutes until we realized where we were. I will never forget that kiss because it was the beginning of my mental destruction.

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter VII - The Sense of Not Being Enough

I just came back from the therapist. I was forced to go. My mother forced me. Apparently, I have clinical depression, but what’s new? I decided not to go to work today because I can’t stand looking at Tegan. She’s thriving with success and I’m dying with failure. Well, it’s all my fault. It’s what I did to me. The doctor gave me those stupid pills that will make me sleep all day and all night. What if I can’t write anymore? What if I begin to forget the events that happened a year ago? Exactly a year ago, can you believe it, Tegan? No, you don’t care. You probably don’t remember. It was just a game for you. I was just a toy.

Remember that first kiss? I daydreamed about it for days. You had to go back to Canada to visit your sister…She…She had to go back to Canada to visit her sister. However, before that, I got to enjoy the taste of that kiss once again. That time it was in my place. She visited to say goodbye but both of us knew what the original reason she decided to come over was.

I didn’t get her into my room that time because I have low self control and she’s too dominant. We kissed on the couch. Her breath didn’t smell that good and mine smelled of coffee I bet. I didn’t care, anyway. The more we kissed, the wetter my underwear felt stuck against my lips. I shifted and turned uncomfortably in a river of thick fluids. I wondered if she had felt the same, and I knew she had because she moaned the more she kissed me. Her face was red and hot when we pulled away.

“Fuck,” she said breathlessly. “You know how to kiss.”

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “What did you think? I’m an inexperienced virgin?”

“Well, you seem like a goody two shoes.”

“I’m not.” I rolled my eyes, sitting back on the couch.

“Prove it.” She winked.

“How?” stupidly, I asked.

“Take off your shirt.”

“Are you eleven, Tegan?” I made her blush with shame. She shook her head, sitting back next to me. “You’re kind of…very sexual.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I don’t want this just to be sexual, Tegan,” I said.

“It’s not,” she said.

“So what is it?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “I haven’t figured it out yet. Just give me time.”

“Do you like me?” I asked, sitting up.

“Are you stupid?”

“No, I’m not,” I shot. “I’m asking a clear question, give me a clear answer.”

“Yeah, Sara, I fucking do.”

“Don’t yell,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry.” She got up. “Look, don’t push me. Try not to.” She had an attitude and I was always afraid of that attitude showing. “I have to go. Will call ya.”

“It’s because of me?” like an idiot, I asked.

“Huh?” She looked back, squinting at me.

“You’re leaving. I ruined the mood.”

“Well, you kinda did.” That’s what she wanted me to believe. She understood my weakness point immediately, how clingy and needy I could get. She knew I needed her around all the time, I needed her love, I wanted her. She knew it and she used it against me. Whenever I talked about something she wanted to avoid, she blamed me for ruining the moment, which I have generously allowed due to my naivety.

I cried. I cried that night. Why did I cry?

I don’t know.

I just cried because I experienced the same feeling I have always felt; not enough.

 _I’m not enough_ , I kept telling myself. If I was enough, she would have been sure. If I was enough, she would have told me she wanted to be with me. If I was enough, she wouldn’t have run away.

I didn’t know it was just who she was. I didn’t know it. To me, I was just not enough for her satisfaction, not enough for love. To her, later on, I was a liability.

I didn’t call nor text for three days. I tried to busy myself with reading, going out with my friends, and sleeping. On Friday, Tegan called in the afternoon. I hesitated as I stared at the phone. I don’t know why. My heart was pounding, I still remember it. I picked up and went to my room even though my place was empty.

“You’re a fucking asshole, do you know that?” she _greeted_ with a laugh. “Three days, woman? Three fucking days without calling or texting?”

“I was…” I shouldn’t have said that, but I did, “I was waiting for you to remember I exist.” I should have said that I was busy, that something was happening, or just said any other lie except the truth. Those were the only times lies would’ve saved me. Her lies should’ve been met with my lies not with my truths.

She laughed for a long time. It wasn’t funny. “You’re cute,” she said. I didn’t respond. “You’re really cute, Sara.”

“Mhm.”

“I have the worst habit of never calling and never checking on people. It’s not just you, it’s anyone. The dearest people. You should be flattered I’m calling now.”

No, Tegan, I should not be flattered. Nobody should be flattered that you wasted a few minutes of your precious time to call them, to check on them, to fucking connect with them. Why would I be flattered? It’s your responsibility. It’s the way you can show affection, gratitude, love, appreciation to people. Most importantly, it’s the way you show you care. But since checking on your loved ones is not a priority but reading books alone and updating your Facebook status about the Robotics seminar you have attended are on top of your list, this shows that you don’t care about those people you claim you adore. You never cared. It wasn’t just everyone, it was just me.

Did I read the signs? Did I notice them?

I did.

Did I think too much about them? Did I take them too seriously?

I didn’t.

I should have…but I didn’t.

“I miss you,” she whispered with a sensual octave. She always knew how to make me weak. Nothing’s easier than making a stupid woman weak. “I really fucking miss you and your face and your lips and your voice.”

“I miss you, too,” I said.

“Liar.”

“No.”

“Lies.” She giggled.

“Not.”

“You would’ve called.”

“I was waiting.”

“I never call.”

“Well, now you did.”

“So now you know how much you mean to me?”

“I guess.”

Idiot! Sara, you’re an idiot. It was a game. A plan. She knew exactly what she wanted to say to get you to look past this other error. Checkmate, Sara fell in the trap, now she will no longer ask why Tegan didn’t call. She can’t.

We talked a lot. We talked for three hours. We talked about everything.

We talked every day while Tegan was visiting her sister. One time she called in the early morning asking me to sing a song I had hummed when she came over. It was _Try Sleeping with a Broken Heart_ by Alicia Keys. It was a strange request and I refused but she insisted. I did. We talked more even while I used the bathroom, which was uncomfortable for me because I didn’t want her to hear me piss. I did it anyway. The phone was on speaker far away from the toilet. I opened the tap and told her I was washing my face.

I had breakfast while she talked about Canada, her sister and her niece. I let her talk because I didn’t have anything important to share. She talked about science then and I listened. I guess it was the first time I felt myself boring, shallow, petty. I didn’t know what to talk about. I had no life. Nothing interesting was happening in my life. I told her about my friends a bit but she didn’t seem quite interested. She asked if they were in relationships or married. I told her that two were in relationships, one was single and one was engaged. I knew she had no friends but somehow she made her life seem way more interesting than mine. After all, she went to all those book clubs, all those seminars and trainings, she seemed like she did a lot of important things in her life.

But here is the ugly truth, Tegan did have many friends. Tegan talked to every available girl on her Facebook page other than me, while she still talked and flirted with me. Tegan knew what she wanted and could easily get it, so she made up stories, lied, fabricated her life and then the hot Tegan every lesbian drooled over was born.

 _Fake it till you make it_ , she had always said. She faked it and she made it. She really did.

“When I woke you up and asked you to sing in that hot raspy morning voice of yours I had the speakers on,” she admitted the next day. It was six in the evening. I was drinking coffee in my living room while reading a book. She interrupted with a call.

“Why?” I asked.

“I wanted my sister to hear how beautiful your voice is.”

Alright, that’s sweet, right? Very sweet. I know for sure I blushed that day. It’s still a mystery to me, Tegan. Did you really make your sister hear my voice? Did you really tell her about me? Did you show her my pictures as you said? I don’t know. If you did, then what happened? What changed all of a sudden? I was just a moment’s distraction? A new toy to be explored then thrown away after you got sick and bored of it? Looks like it.

“My morning voice?”

“Mmmm,” she moaned. “So fucking sexy.”

“You told your sister that?”

“No.” She laughed embarrassingly. “But I think she caught me blushing while showing her your pictures.”

“You showed her my pictures?”

“I did,” she said confidently. “And told her about you and how much you love history and how you have a lot of information.”

I barely shared my information with Tegan but it was nice to hear that from her. It was nice to have someone to give you confidence. But the lesson I have learned is that I shouldn’t rely on people’s boosts of confidence because eventually they’ll leave me and I’ll stay just like this, trying my best to tell myself I’m okay but I wake up every morning with my mother dragging me to the therapist because I can I can barely move out of my bed now. I feel worthless, disgusting, wrong…just simply wrong.

“Thanks, I guess,” I whispered stupidly.

“Sara?”

“Mhm?”

“I want you,” she said calmly.

“I want you, too.”

“I…” She paused. “I want you in that sense.”

“I know.”

“Please send me a picture.”

“Of me?”

“No, of the sky from your window.” I giggled. “Of course of you, idiot.”

“I look awful.”

“Shut up.” Her breaths were suddenly heavy, as if she was snoozing off. “I’ll send you a picture of me.”

I received a picture of her a second later. She looked like the most beautiful woman in the world. Her head rested on a white pillow. Her hazel eyes were narrowed as she squinted. They looked a bit greenish from the ray of the sun. It was just four where she was staying. I only saw a bit of her upper half. She was clad in a white sleeveless shirt. Some yellow print was on it but I couldn’t see the rest. Her hair was all over the place. I didn’t see the curls; I didn’t see the shaved side. Her piercing glistened underneath her rosy lips. They looked so plump and inviting. I wanted her badly at that moment. I knew if she was sitting next to me, I would have fucked her and let her fuck me.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Gorgeous.”

She giggled. “Just gorgeous?”

“Hot.”

“Mhm?”

“Fucking beautiful.”

“What would you do to me?”

“Oh, no.” I laughed. “No, Tegan.”

“Want me to know what I’ll do to you?”

“I think I know well.”

“What?” She tried very hard. She tried and I knew that. I still ignored it. It was normal, right? Any two people attracted to each other would feel that way towards each other, would dream of ravishing one another, bathing each other in kisses, worshiping the bodies, drowning in the love. It felt normal.

“Oh, you know.”

“You’re such a tease,” she moaned.

“You like it.”

“I fucking love it.” She took a deep breath then continued, “What are you wearing?”

“Uh…well, I’m in my pajamas.”

“You didn’t leave your place?”

“I didn’t.” I took a sip of my coffee, moaning at the bitter taste that my tongue loved so much.

“Fuck, don’t make that sound.”

“Why?” I was taken aback. She moaned. “Tegan?”

“Just don’t moan, okay?”

“Are you okay?”

“Mmmm.” She didn’t speak anymore. I only heard her breathing. A thought came to my mind but I thought it was impossible. Tegan could not be doing that while she talked to me.

It was actually very possible. It’s exactly what was happening.

“Sara?”

“Yeah?”

“Send me a picture of you.”

“Why?”

“Because I sent you one,” she replied quickly that I neglected the crazy thought and pushed it further away.

I sent her a picture. I didn’t know what she would say. My face was fresh and free of makeup, too.

“The most beautiful woman ever.”

“You’re such a liar.”

She laughed. “You are to me.”

I chuckled. If I was, why didn’t you want to be with me? If I am, why did you treat me like that? Why did you do this to me?

“I wanna talk to you for hours.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m busy.”

“Me, too.” She sighed. “My sister is out for the day. I’m so bored. Let’s FaceTime.”

“Oh, no.”

“Why?”

“I get shy.”

“Are you kidding me?” She laughed. “Sare, you obviously don’t get how much I want to be with you right now.”

“No, I don’t.”

I should’ve been confident. I wish I can be confident.

“Well, I do. I fucking want you. I want to touch you. I want to squeeze your breasts and finger your cunt. I keep wondering and imagining. I want to lick your nipples and rub your clit till you scream. I want to taste your cum and fuck your pussy with a toy. I want you to do the same to me.”

It was too much for me. Nobody had spoken to me that way before. It made my body freeze then burn. I felt the juices. I actually did feel them seeping out of my lips. I put my hand inside my pants to check. I was wet. Very wet. I hissed at the feeling.

“Did this turn you on?” I swallowed. I couldn’t answer. “You’re gonna masturbate tonight thinking of me?”

“Tegan…”

“I masturbate thinking of you, Sara.”

“It’s too quick.”

“It’s not. We’re adults. That’s what adults do. You want me and you’re afraid.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” She sounded hurt and offended. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I fucking lo…I like you too much.”

I heard it. I heard it and I heard the regret that came afterward. You corrected it quickly but I heard it.

“Let’s touch ourselves while talking on the phone.”

“No,” I said gravely. “Phone sex is a no.”

“Please? At least send me pictures of yourself nude. In undergarments. I can’t wait to come back and see you. I want you.”

It made me giggle even though it wasn’t funny. She sounded like a deprived teen. She was aroused. Extremely aroused.

“You’re laughing at my misery,” she whined while I continued laughing. “Come on!”

“Just hang up and masturbate if you can’t handle it.”

She chuckled and I didn’t get it at that time. “I don’t want to. I want to talk to you forever.”

“I think forever is too much commitment for someone who doesn’t even want to date.” I stung her. I burned her with my words, I know. She stayed silent for a minute. An entire minute. I remember how long that lasted because I kept counting under my breath.

One…Two…Three…I counted till it was sixty. I knew that I feared she was going to scold me. I feared I had said something that had made her angry. I always felt this way. I was always afraid of hurting her because if I did, she got mad at me and hid for days and I couldn’t bear it.

“So you don’t wanna send a picture?” she asked after the minute of silence.

“N…no.” I never sent a nude picture to anyone before and I was not about to do that.

“Fine, but I’ll send you one tonight before you go to bed…for inspiration.”

“Oh…wow.”

“But…don’t show it to anyone.” I could hear how embarrassed she was and it felt real. I still believe she was actually shy about that.

And, yes, if you’re wondering, she kept her promise and sent a picture. Three, actually. Three pictures. The first one of her eyes closed, arm hiding half her face, lip bitten, and breasts uncovered. Her breasts are big, bigger than mine. Beautiful. I wanted to touch them. Pink nipples, a bit long. They were hard enough that I imagined my lips touching and sucking. The second picture of all her body in creamy lace lingerie that took my breath away. I saw her plump ass since she almost rested on her stomach, or half her body did. I wished to see the front of that G-String because it was obviously sheer. But the third picture compensated because it was a full view of her cunt. Moist. Lips pink and drenched. Clit swollen enough to give me ideas what I would do to it and to mine as I stared at the pictures. Fully shaved and soft. My mouth and pussy both watered that I didn’t have time to respond since I had already started to touch myself.

In the morning, when I woke up, I read her text message first:

_T: So, did you come?_

It took me a moment to answer but then I decided to say the truth.

_S: I did._

_T: Good. :D_

_-Guess I was an inspiration after all!_

Guess you were, Tegan; an inspiration to write this and hate the day I stepped inside your world. What’s the point of this piece if it keeps reminding me of how stupid I have been?


	8. Chapter VIII - Like Lovers Love

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

I said fucking stop it!

Stop stalking her. She does not exist. She does not mean anything to you anymore. She’s a lesson everyone should learn from lest they fall in the same mistake.

She says I’m crazy. A lunatic. A psychopath. My mother says I am not. My therapist says I am not. Does she believe me or is she saying it so I wouldn’t lose my temper? So I wouldn’t throw a hissy fit? Does anyone believe me or do you all think I am crazy? Maybe you think I am unreliable, making shit up, too dramatic. Think what you will, I know if she sees this she’s going to do her best to prove that none of it has happened, that’s what she’s good at anyway.

You may be wondering what happened after, well, the pictures. The nude pictures if I must be precise. We didn’t talk for two days and that’s because I was busy with my friends, who warned me about her. Yup, that was the first warning.

“What does it mean she doesn’t want to date you but she wants to fuck you?” one of them said.

“Yeah, doesn’t make sense,” a second one said.

“Be careful!” a third said. “She might just want to fuck around with you and disappear when bored, I know that type.”

“Yeah, they’re called straight men,” I answered. I should have believed her, though.

“Well, from what you have described, she’s not that different from all the fuckboys I have dated,” the first one said again. “I mean, talking when she wants to? Commitment issues? Don’t push me? I like you but it’s too complicated? I want to fuck you day and night but I don’t wanna be your girlfriend? If this isn’t a warning, I don’t know what is.”

If that wasn’t a warning, I don’t know what it was.

I should have listened. I was just lonely, stupid, I wanted affection, I wanted someone to love me. I wanted to feel how that felt. I just wanted to be like all those girls who were loved and chased. I didn’t even realize I was doing the pointless chase. You never made me feel it.

“No, lesbians are different,” I insisted. “Don’t ever compare us to straight men.”

I convinced myself that we were different, that what we had was something exceptional, beautiful, and nice.

Tegan texted that night. She wished me a good night and I smiled like a foolish little girl, pushing the overwhelming thoughts away then wishing her a good night.

The second day was busy too because my father had an event at the embassy and I had to tag along with my mother. There I saw Stacy. We smiled politely at each other as she walked around with her little kid, dressed in a black suit. Her disgusting husband was by her side. I drank too much without even noticing. My mother stopped me.

“Enough,” she said, taking my scotch away. “You drank a lot.”

“I don’t have work tomorrow.”

“Sara, I don’t care, you’re going to make a fool out of yourself soon if you won’t stop drinking.” I rolled my eyes, knowing she couldn’t let go of that summer they had a party at home in which I drank like an idiot and ended up in my underwear in front of all their friends, jumping in the pool with one of the invited guests’ sons.

“I was sixteen back then. I was drunk and sad.”

“Well, you seem to be drunk and sad today as well.” I ignored her and walked away. Part of me wanted to talk to Stacy, part of me wanted to talk to Tegan. I kept checking her Whatsapp and Messenger, noticing she was always online whenever I checked. I wanted to talk to her but didn’t want to seem like I didn’t have a life, because I was supposed to be having a life that night.

To enhance that loser feeling, my parents had to drop me off at my place because I didn’t have a car and I couldn’t drive to save my life. I drank some more when I was on my own. I didn’t receive a good night text so I slept with tears.

However, in the morning, I was awakened by the doorbell and loud knocking on my door. I got out of bed like a mad person, thinking of my mother, my father and all the possible catastrophes that might have happened while I was still asleep. I unlocked the door and opened it.

There she was…there you were.

Do you remember that day?

I blinked because I was in a state of disbelief. I couldn’t even speak. Hundreds of thoughts ran inside my head: the thin black shirt that had a few holes in it, my disheveled greasy hair, the hair on my legs, my morning breath, my sleepy eyes, the orange boxer briefs that clung to my crotch. I wanted to cry but I was also happy because…it was her. It was the woman I cried about the night before.

“Hello there, stranger.”

 I stuttered to let the words out, finally aware of how cold I felt and how horrible I must have looked. I couldn’t speak.

“Can I at least come in?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said and stepped aside. “I’m sorry…I just…”

“I woke you up.” She smiled politely then looked down at my body. I saw one eyebrow rise. I didn’t know what to do in that particular moment. I know I needed to get to my room and get dressed or take a shower or do anything to cover the mess I was in. “So that’s how Sara Quin wakes up.”

“Umm…come on, sit down.” I led her to the living room and she sat down. “I need a minute to uh…take care of this.” I pointed at myself.

“Oh, no, I’m enjoying it.”

I laughed…it was a fake laugh. I wanted to cry. “Well, I’m not. Help yourself with some coffee or whatever. I won’t take too long.”

I hurried to the bathroom. I jumped in the shower. I shaved. I brushed my teeth. I attempted to dry my hair but I didn’t want to take too long and seem rude. I left the shower and ran to my room. I put on my jeans and hoodie then ran to the living room. There she sat, flipping through the television and sipping coffee from my own mug.

“You looked beautiful,” she said. “You didn’t have to take a shower and change.”

“I looked like I had just woken up from my one hundred years of death.” She laughed. I made her laugh and that was one of the gentlest sounds I had heard. I wish I can hear it again sometimes because it seemed genuine, it sounded real.

“I wake up like that as well.” She winked.

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Arrived two hours ago.”

“And…”

“Yup, came right here. First thing I wanted to see was you.” She grabbed my hand and took it in her own warm one. She squeezed. I remember how that touch made me feel love, how it moved my emotions and passions and stirred them inside. I swear that seemed like love. It seemed real.

What happened, Tegan? Why did you do this to me?

She kissed my hand and held me. She kissed my forehead. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to enjoy her kisses so I pecked her. She grabbed my face, brushed her thumb against my chin, stared right into my eyes and kissed me.

“Fuck, you’re killing me.” Sensual whispering wasn’t helping me either. I had to bite back my urges and tease a little bit.

“Well, I’ll stop because I need some breakfast unless you want to hear my tummy making the worst sounds.”

She groaned with soft laughter. I paced to the kitchen with her following behind.

I remember that day quite well. We talked about every little thing—our study plans for the next semester, which was starting in two days only; about our new year’s resolution; about our holiday. I loved her so much that day because she actually seemed normal for once. Normal—not manipulative—and talkative.

But it was an act…for sure. An act to get me right on track, to get me fucked the way she liked it. She knew by then I was more attracted when she showed some vulnerability and weakness. She knew teasing and sexual talk angered me. She knew how to play it right by then.

“Can I spend the day with you?” she asked while I ate my cereal. “I want to look at your face.”

Every girl would love to hear that. She seemed honest, she really did. The way she stared at me made me seem like I was the ocean. Yes, the ocean, as if I was the ocean and she’s the lonely lover staring at me. She made me feel like I was the sun and she was a person searching for light. She made me feel like I was everything; that the world revolved around me.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Of course you can.”

“Would you like us to do something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Kissing you.” She giggled. It was sweet. It made her seem…shy, and she was never shy. “I want to kiss you all day.”

“You want to get into my pants?”

“Well, can I do that?”

I remember I was trying to tease, too. I bit my lower lip, I looked down at my plate, I looked up again with small eyes. I knew some techniques but she was the one in charge of the plan.

“We’ll have to see.”

I put on a movie after that. If you all must know, it was _Carol_. Cheesy, huh? Well, it was on Netflix. It was recent. We were lesbians. It was still the time around Christmas so what would a lesbian put anyway? _Carol_.

“Have you seen it?” I asked.

“No.”

I gasped. “How come?”

“I’m more into sci-fi films.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Interstellar.”

“I don’t know that one.”

She faked a gasp to mock me. “How come?”

I laughed. “I’m more into lesbian movies.”

“The only thing I’ve seen is _Blue is the Warmest Color_.”

“I fucking love it.” I knew by then the movie was just a background of whatever topic we were going to talk about that probably was going to lead to us fucking…I was right. “Most of my friends thought it’s a bit too much because of the…you know.”

“The sex scenes.” She nodded with a knowing smile. “I know. Mine, too.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“I loved it. I…” She laughed, her shoulders shook. It was sweet. “I mean, look, I have never showed my fangirl side to anyone but I feel comfortable enough to tell you that I obsessed over Adele for a full month. She’s fucking hot.”

“But Leah, man.” I shifted closer to her. She noticed it…I remember.

“I know, Leah’s hot and everything. But there’s just this thing about Adele. The, you know, demeanor, the lips, the eyes, the fucking tits. I mean, come on.”

“You sound like a man.”

She was laughing, cackling in fact. It was beautiful. It was so beautiful. “Don’t tell me the scene didn’t turn you on.”

“It did,” I admitted with a shrug.

“I masturbated to it.” My eyes widened, which made her laugh more. “Don’t tell me you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.” I shook my head. She winked. “I swear.”

“Well, I’m just sexually…let’s say…excited.”

“Oh, I noticed.” She touched my hand and winked again. I was melting if that was possible. If a human could melt, I’d be one piece of melted skin all over the place. “If you’re a guy, you’d have a boner right now, huh?”

“Ugh, I hate that word.” She scrunched up her face in disgust. “But, yeah, if I was a guy, I’d have an erection whenever I’m around you.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You know what’s making it harder?” The movie was long forgotten. None of us bothered staring at the screen anymore. I needed a drink but I was too afraid I’ll cut the moment because I did want to sleep with her as much as she wanted to sleep with me during that moment and I cannot deny that.

“What?”

“You’re a tease. You know I want you and you just…you’re enjoying it while I’m literally dying.”

“Aww, dying out of arousal?”

“Yup.” She nodded. She looked at the television for just one second and I thought I’d get up to pour us both glasses of wine but before I could get up, she looked at me again and said, “Sara?”

“Yes?”

“Uh…” She blushed. I remember it. Her cheeks turned bright red. “The pictures…the pictures I sent.”

“Mhm.” I know I must have blushed, too.

“W…well, I…did you…”

“I enjoyed them.” I don’t even know how I mustered the courage to speak but I was free, my tongue was free, my stomach was liberated and my mind was soaring above all the anxious thoughts that had restricted it.

She didn’t respond immediately. She stared at me for a long time, till her face was pale and normal once again. “Do you think I’m beautiful?”

“Tegan?” That was strange. Tegan was asking me if she was beautiful. Why? That woman had the confidence of ten Republican men squeezed together in her system. “You’re actually asking me that.”

“Uh, yeah.” That was one of the few times Tegan seemed real to me. Everything about that day was the realest thing to convince me whatever had happened was not a figment of my imagination; it was real. “I have never sent a picture to anyone…such pictures, I mean. I…freaked out after I sent the completely nude one. I actually…I freaked out.”

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

See, my mind took me to the dark place that made me think of this theory. You said one of the girls you talked to had threatened you because she understood that you two were more than just two people talking together for the sake of a good time? You said she blackmailed you with pictures she had photoshopped of you. Back then I was like, who the fuck has the time? But I was actually thinking about it lately and I came up with this: you actually did send her nudes, just like you did me. Just one of your ways. You told me they’re photoshopped so if I ever get my hands on them, I would think they’re fake. Because, you know, why would I not? A naïve, stupid girl…why wouldn’t I think they’re real? I also figured out I’m doing the same; threatening your highness with my confessions. I am just like all those women, right? Just a pity story to tell your next victim.

“Well, thank you…but, you know, just during that moment. You didn’t even respond. I couldn’t sleep. My anxiety went to the roof.”

“Well, I was…”

“Too busy?” She bit her lower lip and pulled the piercing beneath as well. I was too distracted by the piercing to notice what she had said.

“Yes,” I responded and stared, wanting nothing but to get her lips on mine.

“So you do masturbate after all.”

I looked up. I simply smiled at her.

“Why even lie about it?” she asked again.

“I didn’t know you.”

“Everybody masturbates.”

I shrugged. I stared again, but before knowing, she caught my own lips and we didn’t even part till the end of the day.

I know what you all want. The details. You want the description. People love description, especially when it’s nasty. They love the dirty little details that could nourish their imagination. I will give you details. I’ll give you as many details as you want because I remember every tiny part of that day.

Soon I was on her lap, legs spread around her, kissing her as if she provided oxygen. Her hands were strong. I remember how tight her grip was on my sides. I felt like she was too afraid I would fall and she held me with all her vigor and strength.

My arousal was pulsating in my pants and I was trying my best not to move my hips lest she figured it out. I wanted something to rub on and I wanted her to hurry because it felt like I had been waiting for too long. Well, it’s true, I had been waiting. I hadn’t had sex since Stacy. I hadn’t been touched since Stacy. I needed some relief and she was willing to give and I was more than willing to receive.

We were on the couch and the movie still played in the background but all I could hear was the sound of our lips smacking together and her gentle moans against my ears. I snaked my hand against her curls and pulled, sinking my fingers to feel how soft her hair felt, how in control I, for once, felt. Suddenly the room seemed hot to me and I remembered I was covered in a huge hoodie that I needed to get rid of.

I wanted to be in charge, though. I wanted to show her another side of me. I knew if I took it off, she’d find my neck and wouldn’t leave it. So instead, I pulled away just a bit, still grazing her lips with mine. I reached the hem of her stripped sweater and pulled up. She helped me by raising her hands up. I thought I’d see a lacy bra underneath, like the one I saw in the pictures. Instead I saw a wife-beater. Only a wife-beater and no bra underneath. She noticed my observation and it made her laugh.

“I hate them,” she said, “those bras.”

“Well, who doesn’t!”

“They’re tight and annoying.”

I didn’t want her to get the chance to remove my hoodie, so I took the chance myself and began to kiss her jaw as my hands roamed around her cold arms. Up and down, I enjoyed the smooth skin. When I reached her neck, I heard the sexiest sound I could ever imagine. I knew that I had found her sweet spot. I sucked there for awhile until my hand found her right breast. I felt her nipple harden against my palm as I squeezed. I also felt my juices partying in my underwear. Her hand was tugging at my hoodie and I was not sure if she wanted it off or she was trying to grab onto something. I looked up just a second. Her eyes were closed. She was the most beautiful woman in that moment and I remember that I felt as the luckiest woman in that moment.

Ironic, right?

“Take it off,” she spoke. She cleared her throat and spoke again, “It’s not fair. I haven’t seen an inch of your skin.”

She was right. It wasn’t fair. I pulled my hoodie up and took it off, messing my fringe on the way. She sucked in her breaths as she took a look at my chest. My bra wasn’t helping because it was thin, sheer, and small. I unhooked the white material and lowered the straps till it fell between us. Her breath was hitched as she took in the scene. She loved my body at that moment. She really did. I had never felt as comfortable being naked with someone before, but she made me feel like I owned the best body and the best looks. She made me feel great and that’s what everyone wished to feel, right?

“Can I?” she asked. I nodded, knowing what she wanted. Both hands cupped my breasts next. I felt my nipples grow and I felt a pinch in my clit. Just then, unconsciously, I rocked my hips. “Whoa.” She laughed. “That did something, didn’t it?”

I nodded. I couldn’t even say anything. I was overwhelmed.

She pinched my nipples, both at the same time, and I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling. I opened them again when I felt her mouth on my left one. She looked up at me as she sucked. I had forgotten how amazing that felt, how mind-blowing, how fucking wonderful.

I pushed her off when it was too much to take. She got rid of her wife-beater next. I wanted to do the same to her but she was already trying to be in control as she tried to unbutton my jeans; therefore, I pushed her down on the couch and straddled her. I covered her chest with quick, wet kisses until I found her nipple and licked. She moaned. I loved the sound of that. I pulled down her jeans. Next her black briefs were gone. Her underwear was so different from the one she showed in the pictures and I liked the idea that she could pull both looks off.

I found her sweet river when I plunged in. I heard her melodic voices after I asked if I could fuck her. She released a breathy _yes_. I looked at her closed eyes and red face as I thrust. My thumb rubbed her clit. Her voices became louder gradually until she began chanting my name. I kissed her. I loved the fact that I was in charge, that she let me be in charge. I loved the fact that I didn’t let her fuck me before I fucked her. I know she loved it, too. I know she enjoyed the package I came with before I was too boring and too much to handle. Right, Tegan? Aren’t these your exact words?

She came and, when she did, I went down on her. I wanted to show her what I could offer. I wanted to show her that I was not afraid of her confidence. She screamed my name when I fucked her cunt with my tongue. She screamed my name when I sucked her clit like my favorite lollipop. She screamed my name when her cum was all over my face. She whimpered my name when I kissed her afterward, let her taste her own nectar.

I got up; I needed a drink badly. She looked at me with hooded eyes as I paced around the living room, topless and confident. Her lopsided smile made my heart flutter. I grabbed two glasses from the kitchen as quickly as possible and poured us both red wine.

“I need a drink,” I said. She groaned with laughter, sitting up slowly. “I stole this from my parents by the way. It’s expensive. Some Italian red wine. Yeah, I think father brought it from Italy.”

“Fancy.” I looked back at her, marveling at her beauty. Her body was flushed, her chest in particular. She has lots of moles on her chest area.  I loved those. They were tiny, barely noticeable from afar. She has one close to her left nipple. It’s sexy. “Sara,” she whispered while I still stared in awe. She was just beautiful.

“Sorry.” I shook my head and averted my gaze. I gave her a glass and grabbed mine before I sat next to her.

“That was…fucking…wow.” I was happy, elated, proud. It made me forget about the night before, about the headache I had, about how much I had cried the previous night. I was full of foolish happiness…innocent joy.

“You liked it?”

“I’m afraid I liked it too much you need to get another couch.” She looked down between her legs and I looked down, too. There was a wet spot between her legs, I didn’t care because that meant she was still wet, still aroused. I loved that I could make her feel that way.

“It’s no big deal.” I shifted and ended up on her lap again. I played with her hair as I sipped my drink. We kissed and giggled like two teenagers, like people in love. Yes, that’s how it felt.

“I have never thought Sara Quin could be so…”

“Horny?” I completed her sentence. She nodded with a chuckle. “Well, you know what they say; the quiet ones are always wild between the sheets.”

“Obviously.” She bit her lip as she glanced at my breasts. She smirked and I smirked, too. “I think now it’s your turn.” She was already fidgeting with the button of my jeans. I took her glass from her hand and put both our glasses on the coffee table. I stood up and faced her. She watched intently as I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled it down, revealing the white G-string that matched my bra. She inhaled loudly. I pulled down the thin material, full of my thick juices. I stood there for an entire minute as she enjoyed the scene, observed with wide eyes, lusted over my wet slit and swollen clit. We were naked in my apartment, in the living room, on my couch. I felt good. It felt good.

I sat next to her and spread my legs. Somehow I was not bashful or afraid. I don’t even know what happened to me at that moment but I remember it very well to tell you all that I can never pull that once again, with anyone. See, that moment was the reason I was destroyed. I gave too much, I showed too much, I didn’t leave anything for her to chase. I exposed everything. I had been a mystery to her before and in that moment the mystery was solved, completely solved.

She touched the way she liked. She discovered in fact. It felt to me like I was some experiment in a science lab. Her fingers brushed my mound. I had just shaved in the morning so the skin was still soft. I looked at the long forgotten film. The sex scene was on. I laughed. She did, too. She touched my clit, just brushed it. She was looking at me while doing it. She played with the inner lips, brushed them together, grabbed one and pulled then pulled the other. She pushed the tip of her finger just an inch inside me. I shivered, I wanted more. I didn’t voice it. I waited, let her touch and feel. She took her time. She scooped up my juices and rubbed them with her two fingers, next they were close to her lips. She sucked the two fingers. I was amazed, dazzled, astounded. I thought I had taken control but she simply proved me wrong.

“Don’t you want me to fuck your cunt?”

I nodded.

“Say it then.”

“Do it.”

She laughed.

“No, say you want me to fuck your cunt.”

“Fuck…my cunt.”

She pushed two fingers immediately. I closed my eyes and opened them again with the sudden kiss that pushed me back to fall on the arm of the couch. I felt her breasts on mine, nipples brushing my skin. I couldn’t concentrate. She was fast, very fast. She was not gentle. Not a bit. Never was.

“Tegan,” I moaned. “E..easy.”

“Oh, can’t take this?”

“It’s just…”

“And I thought I’d push three fingers.”

“No, I…it’s been too long.”

“How long.” She slowed down, it was better. “When was the last time somebody fucked you like this?”

“Two years.”

“Damn.” She kissed my neck. Her hot breath was making me dizzy, I loved it. “You don’t finger yourself?”

“I do.” I felt her thumb on my clit. I relaxed. Pleasure was increasing. “But, you know, it’s different.”

“Has anyone ever fucked you with a cock?”

I giggled. I shook my head.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m not too big on penetration.”

She sat up, almost pulling out. “What?”

“No, keep going.” I squeezed my eyes shut, almost there. I wanted it. “I…I like my clit touched more than I like vaginal penetration. It’s normal; some women just don’t prefer that.”

“Damn, your ex must have been bad if you don’t like it. I’ll make you love it.” She took it as a challenge, she didn’t get that it was just not my favorite thing.

It’s normal. I looked it up. I never orgasm from regular penetration. I only orgasm when my clit is touched. Isn’t it normal? Well, to her it wasn’t. It was a topic of derision. She made fun of it. It was nice to laugh at. She didn’t get it.

I came eventually but she was off. She didn’t touch me. Didn’t kiss me.

“I’m sorry,” stupidly, I said.

“Why?”

“I…I ruined the mood.”

“No.” She chuckled. “I just…I think I wasn’t that adequate.”

“Oh, you were pretty adequate.” I took her hand. She smiled as she stared at her thighs. “I’m not that loud.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“You want me to be?”

“Appreciation would be nice.”

“Oh, I loved it. I swear.”

“Wow.” She brushed her hair, sitting back, legs spread. It was getting cold. “You gave me this mind blowing orgasm and I was trying way too hard to, you know, impress you and you just closed your eyes when you came and that was it. Just like, what? Five minutes?”

I laughed. “It’s because I was aroused.”

“Was it because of the fingers?”

“Look, I’ll be honest with you.” I put my legs above her, my head still rested on the arm of the couch. “I don’t orgasm from vaginal penetration. I…I tried. I really did. Stacy tried. I got this vibrator. I pushed it in. I ended up hurting myself. It’s just…it’s just how it is. So you have to, you know, work on the clit.”

“But, there’s the g-spot. You can fucking have the best orgasm reaching that.”

“Did you even feel mine?”

“No.”

“I couldn’t feel it, too.”

“You felt mine?” I laughed. I shrugged. “I think you did. My orgasm was vaginal.”

“I know.”

“You know what?” She held my legs, brushed them with her hand. “I think I’ll try with you. I’m gonna make you orgasm…from there. That’s my mission.”

“Well, good luck.” She winked at me.

“God, you’re just…you’re doing things to me. You’re making me lose my senses.”

I didn’t know what to say. I smiled. Safe, right? What can a person do?

“I wanna fuck you again.”

“Maybe in a bit.”

We ended up having sex again, in my bedroom. But at night, she left. She said she had to even though I begged her to stay the night. I didn’t hear from her for two days. She didn’t even pick up my calls.

 

 

 


	9. Chapter IX - Why Do You like to Hurt Me?

I am forced to leave the house every day to see your face at work. I am forced to pass by your specter and pretend like you do not exist, never did exist in my life, and nothing had ever happened between us. I am forced to fake a smile your way when you fake yours. Why do you smile when you see me, Tegan? Is it to declare you won? Is it to declare you are happy? Is it a way to make me feel like it was all in my head, you never even talked to me? Is it a way to prove it to yourself and others? Or is it just a way to say you have moved on and I should, too? But you killed me, how can I just move on when you replaced my body somewhere I cannot find and I’ve been searching for it without any luck? Why do I smile back? I don’t want you to see me at my lowest even though I know you can obviously see it. I don’t want to break down in front of you, even though I’ve already done it. Why do you smile? Tell me, Tegan. What’s there behind that fake smile of yours? Don’t you feel guilty? Is it a way to let me respond to your text messages? I won’t. I know what you want. I won’t respond, Tegan. Not again.

When I went back to school on Monday, your face was the first thing I saw in the morning. I tried to ignore you but my anger was too vibrant that you sensed it. You followed me, calling my name, made students look at us, made Lindsey notice.

“Sara?” She followed me to the staff room. When you saw her near me, you backed away. I was disappointed. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” I smiled. I lied.

“No, you’re not.” She looked at the door, where you had been standing seconds before. “Is it about…” She gestured with her head. I nodded, tears fell from my eyes. “What is it? What did she do?”

I shook my head pathetically. “She doesn’t love me,” I said.

Lindsey seemed surprised. “Did something happen? Last time we talked you two were supposedly going on a date. I’m sorry, I got busy, couldn’t text you.”

I took a breath, poured myself coffee and sat at a table. “A lot of things happened.” She took a seat beside me, hand on my shaking knees.

“Calm down.” Her voice was quiet, strong, reassuring. “Tell me what happened.”

I shouldn’t have told her, but I did.

“Things got out of hand.”

“What do you mean?”

“We slept together.”

Lindsey gasped.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” I wiped my tears quickly as another teacher entered. I lowered my voice and continued, “I don’t think Tegan would want anyone to know. It was a mistake because…she hasn’t responded to my calls since then.”

“When did it happen?”

“Three days ago.”

“Wow.” Lindsey sat back. Seemed shocked. Seemed disgusted. She shook her head and sighed. “That’s fucked up.”

“I’ll just…forget about it. I’ll try to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Want me to talk to her?”

“No,” I shouted. The teacher looked at us. “No, don’t. Lindsey, just don’t. I shouldn’t tell anyone anything but I need to let it out.”

“Why is she like that?” Lindsey asked with furrowed brows.

I didn’t get it, but she’s right. Why were you like that? Why are you like that? Why didn’t you want anyone to know about us? What’s the point of it? Why do you want people to know about your new lover? How come? Was I a shameful company? Something’s wrong with me? Too ugly? Too stupid? Too mundane? What is it, Tegan? I still don’t have answers. Why did you do what you did to me? Why did Lindsey join your plan? Why did you lie? Why does everyone lie? Why are people like that? I don’t have answers and I just need them. I need those answers because I can’t take it any longer. I’m living a nightmare because of you, Tegan.

Dramatic? Pathetic? Yes, I am. If you really wanna know, I don’t sleep at all, that’s why I look uglier than I’d been. If you must know, I don’t eat, that’s why I look thinner. If you must know, I don’t shower, that’s why my hair is greasy. If you want to know, I didn’t want to go to work today, that’s why I came late. But my mother is forcing me doing what I cannot even think about doing. I wish I can get out of this dark hole swallowing me. I wish I am stronger than this. I wish I can escape this and move on, but somehow I just can’t do it. And yes, it’s stupid and I know it’s fucked up. I’m not romanticizing this because it’s disgusting, it’s atrocious, nothing is comfortable and safe about it. I don’t enjoy being depressed but somehow the more I try to get out of this situation the harder is the fall. Even waking up requires the hardest mental effort I’ve put. Thank you, Tegan, for you have ruined my life with success. No, don’t tell me it’s my fault. Don’t you dare tell me I’m doing this to myself because, trust me, I’m trying my best to fight you, but it’s not working. I swear it’s not.

I cried more that day but, eventually, I forgot about my tears during my classes. However, at the end of the day, I found you alone in the staff room. You stood up as soon as I came and I tried my best to avoid you, but you talked and talked and talked and I was a caged bird once again.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I swear to God I couldn’t pick up. I was…Sara, you don’t get it. What you did to me that day made me lose my fucking senses. I think I’m falling and I can’t absorb it. I wanted to give myself a break. I wanted to see and test what was that. I thought I would be able to come to the conclusion but I just can’t.”

“I don’t get you. I don’t get what you’re saying.” I was cold, very cold.

“Because you don’t fucking get how strongly I feel about you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“For fuck’s sake, Sara, I haven’t slept in three days. I haven’t stopped crying since three days ago. I promised myself that nobody would ever make me feel this way again and you’re just fucking it all up for me.”

“Well, sorry about that.” I pushed her aside and walked out, but she followed.

“No, Sara, please listen.”

I walked faster.

“Sara, please, please listen.” I heard her cries. She was crying. I turned around. Tears hid in her eyes but I could see them. “Listen to me.”

“Speak!”

“I want to figure this out but I need you with me.”

“So you want to figure out if you have feelings for me or not by wasting time with me?”

“No, it’s not like that.” She sighed, bit her lower lip, then said, “Look, I do have feelings for you. I just don’t get what I’m feeling right now. I don’t want this to be fucked up. I like it. I like it like that, simple and nice but at the same time, I think I might be…”

“What?” I said when she paused.

“Nothing.” She shook her head.

“Say it,” I insisted.

“You know what I mean.” I nodded. “So please understand.”

“Do you want us to stop talking to each other?”

“I’ll die.”

That made my heart skip. Yes, it did. I truly believed she was falling in love with me. I truly believed the future hid great pictures for us. I truly believed in a happy ever after. I truly believed in us.

“What do you want me to do then?”

“Just be here, with me, whenever we can. Like the other day.”

“Like together?”

“Well, like, not officially but yes, together.”

“Why not officially?” Why didn’t you want to call yourself my girlfriend?

“Because I don’t get my feelings and I don’t want you to put up with a fucked up who can’t understand their mind like me.” I nodded. I accepted it when I shouldn’t have. But, Tegan, that’s because it was too late for me and I was already in love with you. I wanted you so much to let you go. I kept telling myself it was going to work out eventually; you were going to figure it all out eventually; you were going to be with me and love me like they did in the movies.

“So you want us to do all the things lovers do but not call ourselves those?”

“No, look, I want to spend my time with you but I don’t want you to, like, think of it as such at the moment only.”

“You want it to be an open relationship?”

“I don’t want there to be a relationship, Sara. I just want to be with you.” She shrugged.

“But, I don’t get it.”

“Like, we’re just together, like that day…just for now until I can figure this out.”

“Why does it need so much thinking?”

“Because I don’t want to fucking hurt you,” she said loudly. “Why don’t we go to my place and talk? We have to talk. Just come to my place, please.”

I went back to her place because I loved spending time with her and I missed her. I needed any extra minute with her. I didn’t care anymore. I was arguing but I had already agreed and she could see it.

I sat at the kitchen table as she cooked dinner. I remember how cold that day had been. It was snowing. Her kitchen was colder than any other room in the apartment so she gave me her heavy parka to warm up until she was done cooking. She made coffee for me. I felt special. Just thinking about it makes me want to gag. Can love turn to hate all of a sudden?

My friends say I hate her because I’m not getting the reaction I want from her. But, the thing is, nobody knows that she keeps texting me. The problem is she doesn’t text that she wants to talk. She texts about work, about school, wishes me a good morning. One time, though, one time she texted she missed me. Of course I didn’t respond. She didn’t do it again. It didn’t seem like she missed me. I know she doesn’t miss me. In fact she’s enjoying the situation we’re in right now. It’s a tug of war and she’s the one winning.

“I still don’t get it,” I whispered. “Why is it so hard to want to be with me?”

She turned around to face me. She sighed. She was stirring the pasta in the pan. It was her first time trying to make pesto pasta. She’d asked me what I loved, I told her Italian food, that’s why she settled on pasta. “How many times do I have to tell you? Sara, I swear to God it’s not you, it’s just me, it’s just who I am.”

“This is what every fuckboy in chick flicks says.” She chuckled. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

She looked back at the stove again. “It’s just how it is. I know I might hurt you and I don’t want you to hold on to something that might not happen.”

“But isn’t being together all the time the same thing? Isn’t it too late?”

“That’s the thing.” She wiped her hand with a towel and joined me at the table. “That’s what fucked me up those past three days. I kinda realized I am…uh…falling for you.” I couldn’t hear it well because she lowered her voice. She looked up at me. Tears in her eyes. Tears in mine. “I thought distancing myself would help.” She wiped the tears. “When I saw you today at work, it all just hit me at once.”

I nodded. I couldn’t get it still but I took pride in it. I was making Tegan fall for me after promising herself not to fall for anyone? I felt like I was the shit, like I had won, like Tegan was mine and it was just a matter of time.

“And the thing is…I still do love her.” I looked up, now tears were streaming down my own face. “And it’s making me confused. Very confused.”

“What do you want me to do?”

She sighed then shrugged.

“I need an answer.”

“Just be with me when it feels right and give me space when it’s too much for me.”

 I nodded again. “Friends with benefits?”

“Oh, no.” She chuckled. “You’re so much more than a friend to me.”

But so much less than a lover, yeah, yeah. I got it. They were all labels at the end and you hated labels. What I was to you, Tegan, is a toy to play with once bored and throw once sick of it. I get it. I was a sex buddy. I was a call for a good time. I was a mystery you weren’t quite done discovering all its secrets yet. I was someone you wanted to explore. You were intrigued. You wanted to know what was there behind those mirror eyes of mine. You were as intrigued as Stacy. Both caused damage but yours somehow scratched just a tad deeper.

You tried your best to cheer me up that day, though. I appreciated the attempts. It’s ironic that you said you didn’t want to hurt me by committing but you were already hurting me ten times more. The question is did you know you were doing that? Was it part of the plan? Did you even care? What happened? Why did you change your mind?

Yeah, they seem to be as many questions not just one. Who cares anymore, right?

“How was dinner?” Tegan asked for what seemed to be the tenth time. We were sipping red wine in her living room. It was warm and cozy. We were cuddling, too. Those silly little moments always made me forget why I’d been angry at her. God, I loved her. Nobody can understand how much I loved her.

“I told you it was good.” She groaned, rested her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. “Why can’t you believe me?”

“Because it can’t be good. I didn’t like it.”

“Do you even like pesto?”

She opened her eyes and thought for a minute. She chortled and shook her head.

“See?” I laughed, too. “It was good. It was not perfect, though.”

“What was missing?”

“Umm, I’m not sure, I can’t really cook. I guess needed more seasoning?”

She kissed my head and that took my mind to lands it had never been before. I was dancing on cloud nine. I loved her so much at that moment I thought my love would choke me in my sleep. I wanted to tell her that and I couldn’t. It hurt that I couldn’t.

She wanted to sleep with me after that. That was easy to be guessed. In fact, the only reason she took me home, cooked for me, and treated me right was to sleep with me. She wanted me to forget about my sadness and anger; she knew exactly what she needed to do to get me in the mood. She kissed me slowly on the couch. She kissed me passionately. She kissed me till I started to squirm in her arms. She caressed my skin and stroked my hair. She bit on my lower lip and I on her piercing. She licked my tongue and sucked it inside her mouth. My hips were the waves of the ocean and my moans were the sound of the angry water. I wanted her so much that I offered myself without her having to ask for it. I removed my shirt and waited for her to take the next step. She took me to the bedroom where it was much colder and much darker than the previous place. Though, the bed was more comfortable.

“Can I do to your body whatever I want?” she asked me.

“What does that mean?” I asked because I didn’t know what she meant, not because I was afraid. I was too horny to think much of it.

“I want to show you different types of pleasure. Fuck your cunt well, make you come nicely.”

“O…kay?” That’s when I began to feel confused, a tad scared.

She laughed, brushing my arm to maximize the goosebumps on my skin. “Don’t worry. I meant that…I would like to, you know, be inside you.”

“Oh, okay.” I laughed. “Sure? You have already been inside me.” I shrugged.

“I know. But you didn’t like it and now I wanna try it again.”

“It’s fine, Tegan.” I rolled my eyes jokingly. She took me by surprise with a sudden kiss. I was pushed down on the mattress by the force and vigor of her dominance.

She stripped the two of us next. She took the time kissing my skin and my body. She made me feel like she actually did love me. My skin tingled when her fingertips touched me. I felt the burn between my thighs when she pinched my nipples. I wanted her hand there. I wanted it badly that I pushed it towards my pulsating nub. She snickered and obliged, but only for a little while until she stopped rubbing my clit and got up.

“So, umm, is it okay if I?” She stood there naked in front of me. I blinked way too much to take in the tantalizing scene. She wasn’t shy. Not a bit. I liked that.

“Yeah?”

“Dildo?” She pointed at her closet. That’s when her cheeks turned red.

I sat up. “Oh.” I looked at the closet and contemplated for a bit. Just to be clear, dear readers, I’m not quite comfortable narrating this scene and as funny as it might sound while observing it, I can assure you it was one of the saddest moments of my life. I should have said no because I wasn’t yet comfortable with that step, but I just didn’t want to upset Tegan at all. I never wanted to say no to her. I feared if I did, she’d be bored of me and run away. I wish I had said no, maybe she would have stuck around. “Umm, okay.”

“We’ll just try it. It isn’t that big.” She walked up to her closet. She fished for the toy in mind and the result was a green toy. It wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small at all. “I kinda find it really hard to believe you haven’t been fucked by one already.”

“I told you why,” I whispered.

I looked at her as she opened the drawer in her nightstand. She took a condom and lube. “This dildo is mine by the way.” She sat on the mattress. “I actually have another one but I think you’d be more comfortable with this.”

“Have you been tested?” I asked all of a sudden. She looked at me with a blank face at first. Was my question too much? Was it not appropriate at that time? I didn’t get it. She laughed and nodded. I relaxed.

“I’m using a condom anyway, so relax.” I nodded.

And the process happened. I don’t need to tell you how it did because I’m very sure you’re all very familiar with it. It’s easy, right? In and out, in and out, in and out until you come. Well, it wasn’t as easy for me.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked once she was in. “I feel like I am, you’re very tight.”

“Just a bit,” I whispered, breathing over her shoulder as she topped me. “Start thrusting.”

She did. I closed my eyes to get used to the disturbing feeling but it wasn’t nice. It didn’t feel nice. I didn’t like it. I asked her to touch my clit. She obeyed.

“Is it better like that?”

“Mhm.” My breaths were hitched. I was sweating a river and I could also feel that…I was losing my fluids. Even though she put lube, I knew I was getting less wet the more she pushed. I couldn’t understand it, so I cried.

“Sara?” she asked. “What’s going on?” I shook my head. “Want me to stop?”

I nodded. She stopped.

“You’re hurt?”

“I’m not wet,” I responded.

“What?” she asked with a chuckle.

“I’m not wet anymore.”

“No, you are.” She pushed again. I groaned. “Shit, why?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. I didn’t want to look at her.

“That’s so fucking weird. Are you not attracted to me?”

To your fake dick? No, I wasn’t. To you? I was. I just wanted you to understand what my body loved and wanted the way I understood yours. You were selfish about 85% of the time, though. You wanted to follow your fantasies. You had a goal. You wanted to make me orgasm the way you thought was right, but I couldn’t. So you tried and tried and tried until it worked and that’s when you were done trying.

“I am attracted. I guess I’m just nervous.” That’s when I began to feel the pain. I closed my eyes. “Please pull out.”

She did so immediately. She was out after a second. I closed my legs and closed my eyes. I felt her soft touch burning against my heated skin. I felt her lips on my forehead and I felt guilty. I opened my eyes and hers were fixed on mine. I couldn’t read what’s in there but they seemed dejected. I knew secrets were hidden but I was never able to understand the way she looked at me.

“Better?” I nodded. I forced a smile. She kissed my forehead again. “I’m such an asshole,” she mumbled.

“You’re not.”

She shrugged and stood up. As she was removing the toy, she gasped. She looked at the mattress, eyes wide. I sat up, too. I started looking for whatever she was looking for. I didn’t get it. She removed the toy and spread my legs. She looked underneath my ass and felt against the wet sheets.

“What’s going on?”

“The condom,” she said breathlessly. I remember how I was confused at first until I realized what she meant. That’s when I started to panic. I searched with her. We looked for too long until we reached the conclusion that the condom was still inside me, that it had slipped inside.

“How the fuck?” I shouted. “How can this happen?”

“I don’t fucking know,” she exclaimed. “I guess it was a size bigger than the dildo?”

“Did you even put one?” I asked even though I saw her putting it on.

“Fuck, yes.” She was yelling, too.

I was a mess of sweat and tears. I was about to lose it. I didn’t care that she saw me in that condition because I didn’t even understand what was going to happen to me. I pushed two fingers inside despite the pain I knew I was going to get. I searched for literally nothing. I couldn’t find anything. She stared as I was searching, hurting myself, crying.

Funny, right? That was the moment I realized the universe was sending me signs and signals but I was neglecting them.

“Let me try,” she said calmly, hand on my shaking arm. “You’re hurting yourself.”

“I’m not going to a doctor to take it out. I’m not fucking doing that.” I was crying heavily. I had lost control over my emotions. She tried to calm me down and didn’t succeed. She forced me down on the mattress, head on the pillow. Hand over my chest. “Why do you like to hurt me?”

I think that’s when she realized I was too far gone. That’s when she realized I was the weakest woman she had encountered. She didn’t deny it. She didn’t say anything. I still don’t know what she thought of when she looked at me with her lost eyes.

She put lube on her two fingers and spread my lips with her other hand. I tried to look down but she didn’t let me. She pushed inside and I closed my eyes not to see her face. I started counting the beats of my heart. I counted and counted and blocked every other thought and noise. I thought I was going to black out. I know she had added a finger but I didn’t care. My ears were buzzing and I could hear how loud my breaths were. I know she was able to reach my cervix, I felt it all but I focused on my breaths more so I wouldn’t just lose it right there.

“I got it out,” she said calmly and firmly.

I opened my eyes. Her deadpan features conveyed not a single emotion.

She walked out of bed and out of the room. I waited there with legs spread and tears flowing.

“Try to get some rest and then shower. You’ll relax,” she said as she walked in. She put on her clothes then and lay down beside me.

You think that’s where it stopped, right? That’s where she backed away a little bit, gave me some space. No, you’re wrong. She only distanced herself when she needed. When I did, she didn’t care much.

She tried to make it up to me, though. She tried so much that day. She was nice and gentle. She apologized a number of times, made me tea, cuddled up to me after my shower, and made sure I was alright before she ordered an Uber for me and sent me home. I collapsed there in the clothes she lent me till the next morning. I had one of the most horrible days at school that morning. I remember it very well. I had a nervous breakdown. I lost it with tears and screams and no colleague was able to calm me down. I yelled at Rachel. I yelled at Lindsey. I yelled at everyone. I don’t feel like I need to narrate the details of what had triggered the breakdown; it was a work-related issue. However, what made it worse for me was the fact the only person who did not check up on me was Tegan. I thought she was giving me space. I thought that she was going to talk to me later, she was to call eventually.

The problem was between me and Rachel, the principal got involved. I spent the day (and the next few days) with other teachers talking and whispering. I had no friends anymore. I had nobody. The only person who tried their best to comfort me was Emy. The person I pushed away mostly was her.

Tegan did not call. Tegan did not check up on me. Emy called three times to see if I was okay. Two days later, I was miserable. I looked miserable. Everyone thought I should be happy that Rachel was the one blamed, but I didn’t care. Tegan still didn’t say anything. When our roads met, I averted my gaze and walked away.

The third day, she called as if nothing had happened. I cried for an hour on the phone.

“I didn’t know,” she said. “I didn’t know, I swear,” she lied.

How do I know she lied? It’s simple. Almost every teacher knew about the infamous breakdown. Lindsey said she saw Tegan standing nearby when she was trying to calm me down, but preferred not to enter. I believed Lindsey. Now I don’t know who to believe anymore.

“Okay,” I whispered. I was tired. I was exhausted.

“Sara, I swear to God I didn’t know. The past two days have been a blur to me. I’ve been busy with this green buildings project I told you about. I got back home at eleven everyday and just collapsed.”

“Oh.” It was easy for me to believe because I needed any human contact. I needed anyone I cared even mildly about to care even mildly about me. I didn’t care that she didn’t love me any longer because I realized I was the last on her list that day, and I stopped caring that day. “Okay.” I just wanted someone to talk to. I was starting to lose myself. I was feeling it. I was right.

“It’s not okay.” She sighed. “I keep fucking up.”

“I’m not waiting for you not to fuck up. I’m not testing you.”

“Yes, you are.” She sighed again.

“I’m not.”

“Sara, you want things from me. You want commitment. You want a relationship and I’m already fucking up.” I should have read between those lines. “Don’t even deny it.”

“I’m not denying it, I’m just not expecting much from you anymore. Like, I get it. It’s who you are.”

“I wanna make it up to you.”

“Mmm.”

“Please, let me make it up to you.”

Wanna know how she made it up to me? Maybe some of you have already guessed it. She made it up to me by making it up to her for that awful sex experience a few days before. She came to my place with, dare I say, empty hands and a mouth full of fake apologies. She spent the day with me and ate me out the way I loved it till I forgot why I was angry at her in the first place, till I wanted to fuck her, till she forgot what was happening due to her nirvana, till she pronounced what I thought I’d never hear.

“I love you,” she said as she rode her high. I looked up at her. Fingers still inside. “God, I love you.”

“What?” I asked. I panted. My fringe was full of sweat and so were her bangs. “You love me?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, eyes on me.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you, too.” I kissed her.

She didn’t love me. She never did.


	10. Stuck on Repeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning:   
> A very upsetting chapter: coercion/ emotional abuse and deception/ also period sex and brief mention of BDSM.
> 
> I'm sorry I gave Tegan this character but not all stories have good people.

It’s strange. It’s very strange. Tegan has been chasing me for the past week, trying to get to talk to me at school. Why? Why are you chasing me, Tegan? What do you want? You want to apologize? But, for what? You already ‘did.’ Remember? I don’t think you do because it didn’t happen. We just let it go. Or maybe I don’t remember, you know, I have a wild imagination. Remember that story? That story I once read for you? With the king and his daughter and the man? Oh, and there was a tiger. Remember it? The king turning his fancies into facts, just like me, right?

Well, then why are you trying to talk to me? Why are you chasing me in each room wanting me to listen? What do you want, Tegan? I don’t get it. I’ll never get it.

Those days after the breakdown and the sex, we both didn’t talk to each other for over a week. I needed time to recover emotionally and you needed time to fuck other girls. I didn’t know it then but I felt the departure. It was so swift. It happened so smoothly. You got bored of me so quickly.

But, anyway, I was too naïve to even see it back then. I only focused on one thing, getting rid of Emy.

But, wait, that’s what you wanted, right?

Emy talked to me almost every day and I rarely responded. Well, I didn’t want to. I was afraid she’d get the wrong message but she had already gotten it. How? You’ll see, dear readers.

One time, she texted right after Tegan and I were done having sex. It was in March, early March as I can recall. It was the weekend, she stayed over. She fucked me with a dildo once again, that time I came. I came because I rubbed myself, not because she was able to make me come with penetration. I’m not sure if she saw it or not. I was on my hands and knees and she was fucking me from behind. After the sex, we lay in each other’s arms as she used her index finger to draw random art on my bare skin. She kissed my left breast next; I remember because she made a comment about the mole on the side. She said I should get it checked because it didn’t look quite right. I thought she really cared. Maybe one day she did. Then the text message came. I read it. She did, too; she was lying on my chest, eyes on my phone.

“Tell her to fuck off.” I laughed. “Seriously, tell her that your girl doesn’t want you talking to her.”

“You’re my girl?” I asked softly.

“I’m your everything.” She pecked my jaw.

I shouldn’t have believed her.

I didn’t tell Emy to fuck off, but I was cold with my response. I let go of the phone then started kissing Tegan. We were moaning when Emy texted again.

“Ugh, for fuck’s sake,” Tegan exclaimed. “What does that cock-block want now?”

“I don’t know?” I read the text. I blushed. “She says I look beautiful in my profile picture.”

Tegan rolled her eyes. “She’s trying way too hard. It’s actually pathetic.”

It’s pathetic to you. It’s pathetic because you assumed she knew we were dating but you still didn’t want me to announce it, you didn’t want anyone to know. How could it be pathetic when I wasn’t even able to tell her to stop because I’m seeing someone?

I remember that I responded, “I know.” It’s cocky of me, but I thought that’s what was going to shut her up.

But it didn’t. She kept texting.

“I think it’s time you stop her.”

“Tegan, I already made it clear I’m not interested.”

“Well, she obviously doesn’t get it.”

“You’re jealous?” I asked, flattered.

Tegan scoffed. “No.” She stretched. “Jealous of her? Of course not.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” I mumbled.

“I have every right to be.” Tegan got up. I stared at her ass before her front could face me. She was gorgeous. She really had every right to be conceited, that’s what I thought at that moment. “You like staring at my cunt?” I quickly averted my gaze. “It’s alright, you can stare. It’s a cute cunt.”

“Oh God, your ego.” I threw my pillow at her. She caught it with raspy laughter leaving her lungs.

She began to put on her boxer briefs. “Anyway, isn’t Lindsey her best friend? Tell her to deliver the message.”

“I actually already did that.”

“Tell her again and stop talking to Emy,” Tegan ordered.

I know what all of you are thinking. She was jealous, right? No. Not really. She just wanted things to be hers and hers only for that little while. She was possessive not jealous. Since I was like a toy to her, she didn’t want her toy shared.

The next day, I told Lindsey that Emy had been bothering me. I even showed her the text messages. She agreed I was being cold and Emy should get it already. She said she would take care of it.

It felt good…for a little while.

I went out with Tegan that day. It was very cold. We grabbed coffee and chatted about science, which was boring to me but exciting to her so I let her talk. I listened and talked about history for a bit; I bet it was boring for her to listen, too.

We went home then. We went to her place. She took off her jacket and announced, “I want to fuck you.” It was so casual the way she said it.

“Oh.” I paused, my semi-hot coffee in my hand. “We can’t.”

“Why?” She switched on the lights as we walked inside her room.

“I…I started today.” She turned around, giving me a funny look. I don’t know why I was shy about announcing that fact; we’re both women, she should get it; we would have talked about it eventually. To her, it felt like I was saying it to the first boyfriend I had. It didn’t feel natural.

“So what?” She smirked, sitting on her bed.

“So what?” I raised an eyebrow. “Umm, it’s...disgusting?”

She laughed.

I was hot and I was bothered.

What I’m about to narrate now is making me cry at the moment. I never wanted that. I didn’t know why I said yes to it. She saw my discomfort, but I couldn’t voice my refusal. You may want to continue reading, but I won’t blame you if you skipped this part. To be frank, readers, it’s one of the worst memories I had with Tegan.

“I have some fantasies,” Tegan said, kicking off her shoes.

“Yeah?” I began to sweat.

“Choking you,” she whispered in a raspy way. “Whipping you.” I gulped. “Slapping you.” I shut my eyes. I hated BDSM. It was never my thing. Stacy wanted to try it once but I couldn’t take it.

“Where does period sex come in the picture?” I had to ask, and she laughed.

“It’s just exotic.”

“How?” I exclaimed.

“It gets you closer to the person.”

“It’s dirty.”

“It’s hot.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“It’s natural.”

Eventually, I found myself on her mattress with a towel underneath my legs and my two arms tied up behind my head. I didn’t want to have an infection. I really didn’t want to so I made her put on a condom around her fingers as she fucked my cunt. She kissed my lower stomach as she stared into my eyes. It felt like I was extra wet that time. I closed my eyes to block the thoughts away. I promised myself it was going to be fine.

Then I felt it, too hard, the pressure too strong, too uncomfortable. A different type of toy entered me. I gasped and she shushed me.

“You’re very wet and very stretched, so it’s gonna be fine, okay?” I nodded horrifically. “If you want me to stop, tell me.” I nodded.

She rubbed my clit and fucked me with the dildo. It wasn’t bad, except I couldn’t come…at all. She sensed it; I was nervous. I took a long time and she was getting tired. She did the last thing I expected her to do; she went down on me. I gasped but she shushed me. During that moment, I wondered if she truly loved me that she was willing to go down on me in that situation, or maybe it was just a kink of hers. I still don’t have an answer.

She kissed my clit after I came…actually, she made out with my cunt. It was very sensual to watch; it made me come again. It was the first time I came two times in a row with her. I wanted to ask her about the taste but I was too embarrassed to do that. She didn’t comment on anything. We showered together after it. I asked her if she wanted to get off and she said she already took care of it when she was eating me out.

I wanted to be held after that, I admit. I wanted to cuddle up, but her demeanor turned cold all of a sudden. It’s as if she wanted me to leave. I didn’t want to leave. I felt a hollow sadness inside my chest. I suppose that’s when I felt it. She stayed on the phone the entire time as I tried to talk to her. She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk.

I had my suspicions so I asked, “Are you texting another girl?” She chuckled without even averting her gaze from the screen. “Tegan?”

“Hmm?” Still typed as quickly as possible, licking the jewelry beneath her lip.

“I’m talking to you.”                                                                     

“What do you want?” she shot. I backed away. She was texting again.

I didn’t say anything after. She didn’t care. I cried.

“Why are you crying?” I shook my head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it just PMS?” I shook my head. “Sara?” She put her phone down. I still remember how her hand brushed the hair off my face. “Babe.”

“Am I?”

“Huh?”

“Am I your babe?”

She sighed. “Sara!”

“I’m asking you.”

“You are,” she said as if it was common sense. “It’s just that…this is me, Sara. That’s how I am. That’s why people run away. I can’t…you know, be lovey dovey all the time. That’s not how I am.”

“I’m not asking you to be lovey dovey.”

“Yes, you are.” She brushed her face with her hands. “You are asking me and I’m trying, but sometimes it feels too much.”

“What did I ask?”

“I don’t do sleepovers or cuddles after sex or pillow talk. I like my space.”

I left the mattress quietly. I put on my shoes and said a soft goodbye before walking out.

I know what you’re wondering. Did she stop me? Did she call after me? Did she hold me by the hand, turn me around and kiss me?

Nope, she didn’t do any of that. That only happened in the movies. I spent the rest of the day crying. She didn’t even text. It was always going to be that way, I told myself. Yet, I never stopped it. I should have stopped it right there. I was a coward, I needed affection way too much, I needed attention; an idiot.

Next morning wasn’t any better. Right outside of my class stood Emy with a scowl. Her blue eyes were suddenly as orange as fire. She stopped right there to talk. She attacked with her words. I almost cried and she shed a few tears. Everyone noticed.

“My feelings aren’t for people to make fun of,” she said.

“What?” I was confused.

“I’m not your little entertainment.”

“Excuse me?”

“Did I hurt you? Did I do anything that hurt you?”

“N…no.”

“Then why did you do this?”

“Do what? I’m confused.”

“You fucking know, don’t deny it.”

“What?” I shouted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You literally told all the teachers I’m chasing you and you don’t want me. Everyone is making fun of me.”

“I did not,” I exclaimed, thousands of horrific images of what could’ve gone wrong popped inside my head. I tried to remember. Did Sandy tell her that? Did Lindsey? Tegan? Those were the only three who knew. _No, it can’t be_. It couldn’t be. “I don’t get you.”

She wiped a tear that rolled down her face. “I’ve been teaching here for the past four years and nobody dared to whisper about me. Once you came it has become gossip town for us.”

Harsh words, right? I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. I had a class.

“Stop accusing me of things I didn’t do,” I sounded desperate. “I only told Lindsey and Sandy, I swear.”

“You’re lying,” she said.

“I’m not. And, Emy, Sandy was the one who told me. Lindsey was the one who told me. I told her to tell you I’m not interested. I swear.” I think she could sense the sincerity in my tone. I was panting. Students were staring at us. It was pathetic. It was embarrassing.

“We’ll talk after class,” she said coldly and walked away.

I had more than one class that day. I couldn’t find her in my break, so we were only able to talk at the end of the day. During the day, I barely spotted Tegan as well. She didn’t seem to be in her right mood, so I didn’t even bother say hi. I was still upset about the previous night, and it didn’t seem like she really cared.

I didn’t want teachers to see me with Emy, because rumors were already spiraling around us. It vexed me, it really did. I had no choice, though. I had to understand what was happening.

“I’m not sure what happened, but I did not tell any teacher. Rumors were already spread about us, Emy. I wanted them to stop. I didn’t want them to increase. Students thought we’re dating…students.”

“You could have told me,” she whispered. “You could have just told me to stop talking to you.”

“I considered you as a colleague,” I said. “Colleagues talk.” She nodded.

“I had feelings for you,” she said. “I thought you did, too,” she admitted. It broke my heart.

“I don’t,” I said. Maybe what happened to me was karma because of that day, that moment in particular? Because I broke her heart.

“My feelings were honest but now you’re nothing to me,” she said. It hurt to hear that. I don’t know why.

“I told Lindsey to deliver the message the way you delivered it to her. I told her twice.” Emy nodded. “You didn’t understand.” She nodded.

“Sorry if I hurt you,” she said.

“You didn’t,” I say. “I just wanted you to stop flirting, Emy. That’s it. I just wanted you to realize I don’t share the same feelings. That’s it.”

Lindsey didn’t deliver the message the first time. In fact, she told Emy that I reciprocated the feelings. How do I know? I only knew months after, right when I sat with Emy. However, way before that time, that day Emy had her suspicions that one of us was lying, that’s why she kept nodding. That’s why she apologized.

I called Lindsey to fill her in later that day. I received another Lindsey on the phone, that’s when I started to suspect I trusted the wrong person; suddenly what Sandy had said a long time ago started to make sense in my brain.

“It was your fault, though,” Lindsey blamed. “Emy showed me the messages.”

“Yeah?”

“You were clearly flirting.”

“How in the hell? Most of the time I did not even respond. I never flirted. I was always cold.”

“No, you were flirting.”

“Show me where.”

“That’s not the point,” Lindsey said. “The point is that you kept responding and if you weren’t enjoying her chase you would have stopped her.”

“But…” I paused. I was in disbelief. “Lindsey, you told me she likes me. You, remember?”

“Yeah?”

“I told you to tell her that I’m not interested.”

“I told her to stay away.”

“But you didn’t tell her I’m not interested, did you?”

A long pause.

“You didn’t,” I whispered.

“Emy confronted Tegan.”

“Huh?”

“Emy confronted Tegan.”

“For what?” I shouted.

“She asked her if there was any type of heat or misunderstanding between them.”

“But…”

“Tegan said no and was very weirded out with the question.”

“Lindsey, who the fuck said there’s any problem between the two?” Though I knew Tegan didn’t like Emy, but I never said anything to Lindsey.

“You did.”

“What?” Her words hit me; I was the tree and she was the speeding truck not looking ahead. I asked myself _when_ a thousand times in that second. I tried to remember every word I had said to Lindsey. I tried my best but I couldn’t remember. “When?”

“You did. You told me.”

“I don’t remember.”

“I don’t know.”

Whether I did or not, Lindsey, when I tell you something or confide in you, I expect you to keep it between us. You did the opposite, you told Emy. Not only Emy, almost every teacher you considered a friend. You told everything you knew about me. You told her about me and Tegan. You narrated stories. When I stopped telling you ones, you made up stories on your own. You built up scenarios based on what you were able to see or grasp. You got closer to Tegan just so you could get information. What type of dedication was that? I still don’t get it.

Tegan called that night. I was too restless to be nice. I was too quiet. She apologized for the night before.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” she whispered. “I just want you to understand me.”

“It’s fine.” I wasn’t in the mood.

“Sara, please,” she begged. “I don’t wanna hurt you. I adore you. I don’t wanna hurt you. It’s just hard. It’s hard.” I could hear her cries. Tears left my eyes.

“Tegan, it’s fine. I get you.” I sighed. “I’m just tired.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” I said.

“What’s wrong?”

I told her about my day, about Emy confronting me, about Lindsey calling me to tell me it’s my fault, about how fucked up it made me feel. Though I didn’t tell her about Lindsey telling me that Emy had confronted her. I should have, though. I really should have.

She didn’t mention it as well. It’s as if it had never happened. To this day I wonder if it did, but Emy said it did. Tegan never mentioned it.

“I think you did the right thing,” Tegan said. “Now things are clear. Just move on. She won’t bother you anymore.”

“I hope so.”

The next day Tegan came over to my place. She wanted sex. I said no. She said she wanted to get off, only her; I didn’t have to be naked. I consented after. She asked me to remove my shirt so she could get turned on. I did.

We kissed for awhile. She kept playing with my breasts and pinching my nipples as I sucked her neck. I fingered her then went down on her. She came twice. I was aroused after that. She asked if I was. I lied. I didn’t want to be touched. I don’t know why. I just didn’t want to. I touched myself in the bathroom later that night. She had left an hour before.

Next day, Tegan didn’t come to school. I texted her, asking her if something was wrong. She didn’t answer right away.

Teachers were staring at me in the staff room. Teachers were whispering. I remember that awful day very well. Everyone whispered and looked. I had never felt more self-conscious as I had in that moment. I sipped my coffee and looked at my phone. I sat alone, isolated from everyone. I kept staring, waiting.

The texts came one after the other:

T: _I’m tired._

S: _Are you okay?_

T: _I’m not._

S: _What’s wrong?_

I began to get worried. Silly me.

T: _I can’t do this._

S: _Can’t do what?_

T: _Us._

My heart jumped up and fell down at that moment.

S: _Huh?_

T: _Sara, I can’t love you. I don’t love you._

My heart shattered. Tears fell from my eyes.

S: _But you said you did._

T: _I know. I forced it._

I was sobbing. People were watching.

S: _I don’t get it, Tegan. What am I to you?_

T: _Someone I really care about, a friend, and a sister._

S: _A sister?_

I don’t know why I kept talking that day. I continued texting when I shouldn’t have. I hate the fact that I am clingy. I hate the fact that I can be too much. I just hate it. It just seemed like she was lying. I wished it was a prank. I really did. I don’t know why I didn’t run away from the first time the pattern of sex then isolation happened. It was always the same.

S: _A sister? Really?_

T: _Sara, don’t hate me._

S: _You fuck your sister? You go down on your sister? You finger your sister’s pussy? You kiss your sister?_

T: _Don’t make it hard, Sara. You know what I mean. I just can’t seem to feel as powerful as you do. I can’t give you what you want. You deserve better and I don’t want you to get attached. I just want us to be friends who care about each other. I don’t wanna lose you._

S: _You’re not making sense._

I admit I didn’t want to lose her, too. I was already too attached. I just wanted to be near to her and be whoever she wanted me to be. I was already gone and she knew it. She knew I could never give her up. I was easy. An easy bait. An easy game. I forgave, I offered, she enjoyed the game.

T: _I don’t make sense. Okay. Whatever._

I cried way too much that day. I went to the bathroom to cry. Lindsey followed. She said that I had made a scene in the staff room, everyone was wondering. Everyone was speculating. That’s what she said.

“Everyone kinda suspects it’s about a girl,” she said. “I told them you’re going through a rough time with your family.”

“Do they all know I’m gay?” I asked pathetically. I remember that day clearly.

She nodded apologetically. I resumed crying.

I told her what had happened and I wish I didn’t. I didn’t know she was going to spread the news to everyone we knew.

“She’s sick,” she said. “Stop dealing with her.”

“I don’t get her. We…we had sex yesterday.”

“Yeah, that proves she’s sick.” I still don’t get Lindsey. How did she speak those words to me and speak the same to Tegan? Who lied? Her or Tegan? I still wish I can find out.

Those were the worst memories, I suppose. Still not worse than the time of the major heartbreak. That day could never be compared to any other. We’re getting to it, dear readers. Every time I write more, I despise myself more. Wish I can avert the hate towards Tegan, but I only hate myself.

What makes the memories worse is the fact that after that day I allowed Tegan in again.

I spent the day with my parents so I wouldn’t think about it and when I returned home I saw Tegan sitting on my doorstep with tears in her eyes and a flower in her hand. Yes, a flower. A single yellow carnation.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I keep doing this.”

“Go away,” I whispered. I was exhausted. I admit, though I was happy inside, seeing her in that vulnerable state gave me more confidence and better control.

“Please, Sara, I’m just tired.”

“Tegan.” I sighed. We both knew I would give in. I just needed some act of pity and I would be melting again. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know. I lie to myself when I do it.”

“Tegan, what do you want?”

“I want to be around you. I want to be with you till I figure out what this is.”

“Why? So I can bear having you telling me I’m like your sister then fuck me dry the next day? No.”

“No, it’s not that.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I just don’t wanna hurt you. I just want you to be with me without the labels, without those things. I’m afraid of commitment, Sara. I want you to get it. I’m afraid of it and I’m getting used to you. It’s scaring me.”

I guess it’s obvious what I did next. I let her inside and gave her water. I let her sleep in my bed that night. It was the first time she slept over. I didn’t sleep well, though. I cried most of the night. I felt like I was losing myself. I should have listened to my instinct. The next morning, Tegan woke up as if the previous day hadn’t happened. She joked and talked normally, as if the previous day had been an act she had perfected. Thank you for the worst memories, Tegan. Thank you, my dear friend.


End file.
